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THE  UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

LIBRARY 


THE  WILMER  COLLECTION 

OF  CIVIL  WAR  NOVELS 

PRESENTED  BY 

RICHARD  H.  WILMER,  JR. 


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5V1LMER  COLLECTION 

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Vol,  I.  POCKET  EDITION. 


OLD  FUSEE; 


OR. 


The  Cannoneer's  Last  Shot. 


A   tali;  of  bloody  antietam. 


BY    ANTHONY    P.    MORRIS. 


NEW  YORK. 
NOVELIST  PUBLISHING  CO., 

Nos.  18  AND  20  Rose  Street, 
1883. 


Copyrighted  1883,  by  The  Novelist  Publishing  Co. 


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V1-- 


OLD  FUSEE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

A   SOUTHERN  SYMPATHIZER. 

It  was  on  the  eve  of  one  of  the  remarkable  and  decisive  battle? 
of  the  great  civil  war. 

The  famous  Confederate  General  Lee  had  crossed  the  frontier 
into  Maryland,  after  several  conquests,  and  the  Union  army 
found  itself  in  a  condition  merely  defensive  and  rather  humiliated 
before  the  nation. 

Dismay  was  in  the  shattered  ranks  of  the  battalions  at  the  capi- 
tal after  Pope's  disastrous  campaign;  but  a  vast  thrill  pervaded 
the  weary  army  when  it  was  known  that  once  again  the  soldif-/rs' 
favorite  chieftain,  McClellan,  was  to  reassume  command  of  the 
nearly  vanquished  troops. 

At  the  date  on  which  our  story  opens,  the  brave  and  able  gen*  "al 
who  now  guided  the  destiny  of  the  blue  clad  host  had  been  fortu- 
nately apprised  of  Lee's  intention  to  i^ossess  himself  of  Harper'i 
Ferry,  and  even  then  the  former  was  in  a  position  to  succor  Colo- 
nel Miles — having  brilliantly  swept  open  the  passes  of  South 
Mountain  and  sounded  through  the  struggle  there  the  signal  guns 
that  might  have  apprised  the  garrison  at  the  f errv  of  hi3  formida- 
ble proximity. 

But  Harper's  Ferry  had  surrendered  to  Jackson  and  Walker^ 
McClellan  had  come  too  late. 

Not  too  late,  however,  to  interfere  with  Lee's  contemplated 
campaign;  for,  being  aware  of  the  caliber  of  the  general  who  was 
now  marching  against  him,  Lee  now  saw  that  a  great  battle  must 
be  fought,  and  skillf ullj"  began  concentrating  his  forces  for  the  in- 
evitable struggle. 

East  of  Sharpsburg,  facing  the  purling  waters  of  the  Antietam, 
were  the  stern  fronts  of  the  Southern  generals  whose  names  for 
valor  history  will  remember,  and  the  to  north,  east  and  southeast 
slowly  approached  the  long  lines  of  blue  in  grand  array  beneath 
the  Howing  glorious  stars  and  stripes. 

Thus  matters  were  wliea  jye.  takii  the  reader  to  a  commodious 
•  I 


OLD   FUSEE. 

dwelling  to  the  west  of  Sharpsburg,  on  the  Shepherdstown  road, 
the  home  of  James  Bartholemew,  a  wealthy  gentleman  whose 
broad  acres  extended  nearly  to  the  glistening  shore  of  the  Potomac 
river,  winding  its  snaky  course  at  that  point. 

Bartholemew  was  one  of  those  who,  despite  the  sample  of  rags 
and  suffering  and  perceptible  disintegration  which  pervaded  the 
Confederate  host,  had  partaken  of  that  spirit  of  enthusiastic  sup- 
port for  the  cause  of  the  South,  which  Lee  had  so  confidently,  and 
it  appeared  vainly  to  the  greater  extent,  counted  upon  as  in  store 
for  him  when  he  began  this  campaign  for  the  "  restoration  of 
Southern  liberties  "  in  Western  Maryland. 

A  thorough  secessionist  from  the  first,  he  had  had  no  fair  or  safe 
opportunity  of  proclaiming  his  sympathies  until  now,  when  he 
saw,  as  he  declared,  the  advent  of  the  movement  which  would  ter- 
minate in  the  complete  overthrow  of  the  government  at  Wash- 
ington. 

A  man  of  small  stature,  with  a  fringe  of  whitish-gray  hair,  a  very 
nervous  temperament,  and  twinkling  blue-gray  eyes  that  contain- 
ed a  cunning  expression  fairly  foxy. 

Foxy  he  was,  for  at  the  age  of  nearly  sixty  years  he  had  accumu- 
lated considerable  wealth,  by  speculation  and  otherwise  in  the 
management  of  his  land  thereabout,  and  long  ago  had  acquired  the 
r.eputation  of  being  unmistakably  miserly  in  all  things  excepting 
wbat  contributed  directly  to  his  own  personal  comfort. 

\  confirmed  bachelor  he  had  ever  been,  but  in  the  household  of 
Ja^es  Bartholemew  there  was  the  fairest  young  girl  of  any  in  all 
the  country  road. 

]^o  mere  ward  was  she. 

,  A  mystery  was  woven  in  the  life  of  lovely  Belle  Bartholemew,  to 
•v'hom  he  had  given  his  name;  and  many  in  the  town  of  Sharps- 
burg could  recall  the  night  when  he  had  taken  under  his  roof— 
much  to  the  astonishment  of  every  one— a  helpless  little  infant 
who  came  from  where  no  one  ever  could  ascertain,  and  who  seem- 
ed to  have  touched  the  only  tender  spot  in  the  miser's  acrimonious 
nature. 

A  belle  indeed  was  Belle  Bartholemew— known  far  and  near  as 
the  most  dashing  rider  at  this  date,  and  a  rare  image  of  combined 
loveliness  and  purity. 

A  brunette  of  rosy  type,  with  flashing,  penetrating,  merry  black 
eyes,  an  exquisite  figure,  a  hand  that  dispensed  her  miserly  pro- 
tector's money  at  times  so  freely  among  those  who  deserved  chari- 
ty that  the  old  man  was  wont  to  storm  at  her  in  a  rage  that  in- 
variably ended  in  a  kiss  from  her  rich  lips  to  bring  back  the  smile 
to  his  wrinkled  face. 

Uncle  Jim  he  had  always  been  called  by  this  bright,  winsome 
vision  of  beauty. 

Night  lay  over  the  road  that  wound  its  circuit  before  the  house. 

The    Confederate   lines    that  were  marshalled  on  the  west  of 


OLD   FT^SEE.  5 

Sharpsburg  had  drawn  in  closer  to  the  town,  and  only  a  few 
stragglers  in  gray  could  be  detected  now  and  then  in  the  gloom, 
following  carelessly  in  the  wake  of  McLaws,  who  had  come  to 
unite  with  Lee  from  the  detour  b>  way  of  Shepherdstown. 

In  the  great  parlor  of  this  square,  stone  dwelling,  old  Barthole- 
mew  was  pacing  to  and  fro  unrestedly.  He  rubbed  his  skinny 
palms  together  like  twining  eels,  he  shook  his  sparse  hair  on  his 
jerking  head,  and  from  his  thin  lips,  muttered  : 

"  She'll  be  killed  !  She'll  plunge  her  neck  into  the  line  of  some 
fool  of  a  picket  and  have  her  head  blown  off— I  know  it!  Forever 
riding,  forever  skipping,  dashing,  flying  about  when  she  ought  to 
be  shut  up  out  of  danger,  like  any  other  sensible  girl!  I've  a  no- 
tion to  help  the  jade  out  in  her  suicidal  intentiOias— no,  no,  no,  I 
don't  mean  that!  But  she  worries  the  soul  and  life  out  of  me. 
Hey,  who's  this?" 

For  as  he  half  raved  about  somebody  of  something  which  seemed 
to  cause  a  sort  of  frantic  uneasiness,  there  was  a  heavy  footsteji  on 
the  broad  porch,  and  a  small  darky  came  running  in  with  the  in- 
telligence that  a  visitor  had  arrived. 

"It's  de  Massa  Cap'n  wot  hes  de  big  'staches,"  announced  the 
boy ;  and  with  eyes  still  rolling,  and  turned  in  the  direction  of  the 
person  approaching,  the  boy  sidled  in  a  manner  of  deep  awe 
around  the  door  jamb. 

The  comer  was  a  tall  man  of  fine  physique,  attired  in  a  full  suit 
of  gray,  with  great  slouch  hat,  wearing  a  heavy  sword  at  his  belt, 
and  in  the  belt  a  monstrous  pistol. 

His  face  was  not  unhandsome,  but  there  was  something  about 
the  sinister  curl  of  his  immense  black  mustacheand  in  the  piercing 
black  eyes,  that  seemed  to  repel  the  beholder. 

A  doughty  Confederate  was  he— Captain  Jack  Striker,  of  Jack- 
son's division. 

As  he  appeared,  oldBartholemew  hastened  forward  to  greet  him 
warmly. 

"  Ah,  my  dear  captain.  You  are  back  among  us  again.  I'm  glad 
of  it ;  I  do  not  know  of  any  one  I  would  rather  see  enter  my  house 
than  yourself,  excepting  it  be  General  Lee  himself.  Be  seated," 
wheeling  forward  a  chair.  And  he  called  sharply:  "Pomp! — 
Pomp!  you  son  of  night!  where  are  you?' 

"Hyar,  Massa  James." 

"  Wine,  Pomp — bring  us  some  wine — and  cigars,  too.  Pomp. 
Hurry,  there!" 

While  the  negro  lad  hastened  for  the  refreshments,  Captain  Jack 
Striker  seated  his  large  form  in  a  chair  with  the  air  of  a  man  who 
feels  that  he  has  a  perfect  right  to  the  fullest  hospitality  of  the 
house. 

But  there  was  a  slight  frown  on  the  captain's  face  as  he  half-ab- 
sently  answered  to  the  other's  nervously  rattling  volley  of  ques- 
tions ; 


G  OLD  FUSEE. 

"Yes,  we've  just  got  back  from  that  little  affair  at  Harper's 
Ferry.  It  was  an  easy  matter  to  ruu  the  Yanks  in  from  the 
heights,  and  some  blood  was  spilled.  Miles  got  his  death  wound,  it 
has  been  rumored  by  the  scouts— all  the  better.  But  I  did  not 
come  here  to  talk  of  that  fight,  friend  Bartholemew.  I  have  some- 
thing important  to  say  to  you  ;  and  if  you  don't  want  your  house 
pulled  slam  down  about  your  ears,  you'll  pay  close  attention,  and 
take  summary  action  upon  the  subject  I  mean  to  communi- 
on te " 

"  My  house  pulled  down  you  say  ?" 

"Precisely  so." 

"Why,  what  in  the  world But  here  is  the  wine.    Have  a 

sip,  my  dear  captain.  Light  a  cigar.  There — what  are  you  talk- 
ing about?    My  house  pulled  down?    Explain." 

And  now  for  the  first.  The  old  man  noted  two  items  in  connec- 
tion with  the  visitor  which  had  escaped  him  : 

The  captain  was  rather  scrupulously  attired  for  a  man  who  had 
lately  emeiged  from  a  battle — for  there  had  been  a  considerable 
struggle  between  the  blue  and  the  gray  at  Maryland  and  Loudon 
Heights  ere  Miles  had  yielded  up  the  triad  of  mountains ;  and  the 
second  item  was  the  frown  mentioned,  which  contracted  the  brows 
of  Jack  Striker  in  a  somberness  that  had  first  made  itself  felt  upon 
the  awed  negro  lad  as  he  entered. 

With  his  own  glass  poised  in  hesitancy  near  his  lips,  James  Bar- 
tholemew looked  searchiugly  at  the  Confederate  ofQcer,  the  ex^ 
pression  of  his  countenance  one  of  wondering  perplexity. 


CHAPTER    II. 

A    BLUNT    PROPOSAL. 

The  words  next  uttered  by  Caj^tain  Striker,  for  some  weighty 
reason,  caused  the  face  of  James  Bartholemew  to  pale  slightly. 

"  Do  you  want  that  ward  of  yours  to  run  your  neck  into  a  hal- 
ter, or  bring  you  out  before  a  platoon  of  soldiers  to  be  shot  ?" 

"Halter!    Shot!" 

"I  said  it." 

"  I  do  not  see  what  you  are  driving  at?" 

"  Listen,  then,  and  you  will  understand.  Perhaps  you  are  not 
aware  of  the  doings  of  Miss  Bell.  But  these  are  times  when  mili- 
tary people  judge  a  man's  proclivities  by  his  surroundings  to  some 
extent,  especially  if  a  member  of  his  own  family  is  guilty  of 
strange  doings  not  consistent  with  the  profession  he  makes 
aloud " 

"My  dear  sir  "—breaking  in  nervously— " please  tell  me  what 
you  are  getting  at?  What  have  I  done?  What  has  anybody 
done " 

"  Ah,  now  you  speak  it" — dashing  off  his  liquor  at  a  gulp, 
"  Now,  you  strike  the  key.    What  has  anybody  done  ?    Miss  Belle 


OLD   FUSEE.  7 

has  done,  is  doing,  somettiing  that  will  bring  destruction   on  you 
as  sure  as  you  stand  there." 

"She!    Impossible!    Belle  would  not  do  anything  to  compro- 
mise either  herself  or  me." 

"  There  you  are  wrong.  Sit  down.  Let  us  discuss  this  thing 
quietly." 

With  wide  eyes,  Bartholemew  seated  himself  in  an  opposite 
chair,  staring  at  the  captain  in  astonishment. 

"  I  am  afraid,"  said  the  gray-suited  officer,  "  that  your  ward. 
Miss  Belle,  is  not  so  stanch  a  Southerner  as  she  has  led  you  and 
me  and  everybody  else  to  think.  Wait,  now,  I  will  explain  my 
meaning.  We  know  that  ever  since  McClellan  left  Frederick, 
his  couriers  and  spies  have  been  thick  all  over  the  locality  be- 
tween here  and  that  place ;  some  of  them,  fortunately,  have  been 
captured  and  strung  up.  But  there  has  been  one,  it  seems,  that 
theshrewedest  of  our  army  could  never  trap,  and  who  must  be 
the  one  who  was  so  cunning  as  to  get  possession  of  the  order  from 
Lee  to  Jackson  and  McLaws,  sending  them  to  capture  Harper's 
Ferry,  and  which  order  was  revealed  to  General  McClellan.  The 
spy  of  whom  I  speak  is  a  woman— so  the  scouts  say." 
*' A  woman !" 

"  Yes,  and  no  ordinary  one,  either;"  with  an  ominous  twinkle 
in  the  black,  piercing  eyes. 
"Well,  sir,  well?" 

"  She  is  seen,  at  times,  dressed  in  a  riding  habit  of  gray.  At 
other  times,  it  is  believed,  she  has  successfully  assumed  the  garb  of 
a  farm  boy,  and  numerous  masquerades  besides ;  a  very  smart 
young  girl,  in  fact,  who  had  better  be  devoting  herself  to  the  cause 
which  she  leads  everybody  to  believe  is  the  paramount  love  of  her 
heart — the  good  cause  of  the  South." 

"  But  I  fail  to  see  your  drift.  There  are  more  women  than  one, 
so  I  have  heard,  doing  just  such  service  for  both  theiNTorth  and 
South.  There  is  nothing  remarkable  about  itj  that  I  can  pee.  You 
must  be  keeping  something  back." 

The  captain  tilted  back  in  his  chair  and  stroked  his  long  mus- 
tache while  he  gazed  fixedly  at  Bartholemew. 
"You  are  very  dull  of  comprehension." 
"I  must  admit  it." 

"Have  I  not  said  that  your  ward.  Miss  Belle,  would  cause  you  to 
be  shot  as  a  Yankee  sympathizer  if  you  do  not  put  a  stop  to  her 
doings  1  No,  I  did  not  exactly  say  it,  either;  but  that  is  what  I 
mean." 

"What!"  as  the  other's  meaning  dawned  upon  him,  "you  hint 
that  Belle  is  a  spy  for  the  accursed  Yankees  ?" 
"  That  is  just  what  I  declare." 
"  Preposterous !" 
"  You  will  find  out  to  your  cost  that  there  is  nothing  preposter- 


8  OLD  FUSEE. 

ous  about  it,  but  a  succession  of  hard  facts.      In  plain  words,  Miss 
Belle  is  a  spy." 

Old  Bartholemew  seemed  too  overcome  by  surprise  for  utter- 
ance.   He  stared  into  the  captain's  tace  like  one  bewildered. 

"  But  it  is  not  yet  common  knowledge  that  such  is  the  identity 
of  this  bold  young  lady'"  pursued  Striker,  letting  his  chair  down 
and  tilting  it  forward  the  other  way  confidentially,  while  his  voice 
sunk  lower.  "  I  may  say  that  there  are  not  a  half  dozen  besides 
myself  who  have  penetrated  the  secret." 
"  But  it  is  a  most  ridiculous  suspicion." 

"No  suspicion  at  all,  I  say;  it  is  a  fact.    Now  let  me  tell  you  that 
it  has  not  been  twenty-four  hours  since  I  saw  Miss  Belle  in  conver- 
sation with  a  very  suspicious  character  at  the  Potomac  ford  to 
whom  she  gave  a  package  of  papers.    Could  you  swear  as  to  where 
she  was  just  twenty-four  hours  ago  ?" 
A  half  smiling  exclamation  broke  from  the  old  man. 
"  Yes,  sir;  yes,  I  can." 
"Oh,  you  can?" 

"  Undoubtedly.  She  was  here  in  this  house;  I  saw  her  at  exact- 
ly twenty-four  hours  ago  ascending  the  stairs  to  the  library.  1 
spoke  with  her,"  and  as  if  he  had  utterly  overthrown  any  suspic- 
ions which  the  captain  might  have  entertained,  he  rubbed  his  eely 
fingers  in  and  out  in  satisfaction. 
"  Have  you  any  proof  beside  your  own  word  ?" 
"Why,  captain!"  in  astonishment  that  his  own  word  was  not  en- 
tirely sufiflcient. 

"  Because,"  added  Striker,  "if  there  comes  an  investigation  you 
will  need  it,  the  additional  proof,  T  mean." 
"  Pomp  !  Pomp !"  called  the  old  man,  a  little  excitedly. 
"  Hyer,  massa." 

The  white  eyeballed  negro  youth  seemed  to  be  ever  within  sound 
of  his  master's  voice. 

"When  did  you  see  Miss  Belle  last?    For,"  to  the  captain,  "to 
tell  the  truth,  I  have  not  seen  her  since  last  night." 
"  Seen  de  Miss  Belle  las'  night,"  answered  Pomp. 
"What  time?" 

"  Jes'  'bout  dis  time,  Massa  James." 

"Would    you  swear  to  that,  you  little  rascal?"  put  Striker, 
wheeling  frowningly  upon  the  boy. 

Pomp  must  have  understood  the  nature  of  an  oath,  for  he  re- 
plied promptly  : 
"  Deed  I  would.    G  i  e  -es  I  knows  Miss  Belle." 
Bartholemew  dismissed  him. 

"So  you  see,"  laughed  Bartholemew,  though  the  laugh  was  not 
as  free  from  uneasiness  as  he  would  have  wished  it  to  appear,  "  it 
would  be  impossible,  my  dear  sir,  for  the  young  lady  to  be  in  two 
different  places  at  the  same  time." 
Captain  Striker  seemed  to  be  somewhat  puzzled. 


OLD  FUSEE. 


He  arose  and  l)egaii  walking  thoughtfully  before  the  old  man 
and  muttered  . 

"There  is  a  mystery  here,  then,  for  I  will  make  oath  that  I  saw 
Miss  Belle  at  the  ford,  talking  with  a  man  who  wore  a  big  white 
beard.  I  was  within  twelve  feet  of  the  pair,  and  I  very  plainly 
recognized  her  voice. 

'*  If  you  thought  you  had  discovered  a  mare's  nest,  and  came  to 
put  me  on  my  guard,  I  am  all  the  same  obliged  to  you,"  said  Bar- 
tholemew,  and  it  was  evident  that  he  was  in  earnest.  ♦*  But  you 
see  you  must  have  been  mistaken,  so  there's  an  end  of  it." 

Striker  resumed  his  seat.  He  regarded  the  other  steadily  over 
the  rim  of  another  glass  of  wine  which  he  filled,  and  when  he  had 
carefully  wiped  his  long-ended  mustache,  said : 

"Friend  Bartholemew,  I  hope  I  am  mistaken,  but  my  eyes  sel- 
dom deceive  me.  1  have  sharp  eyes,  let  me  tell  you.  Yes,  as  you 
suggest,  I  only  spoke  of  the  matter  through  friendliness  to  you. 
And  now  let  me  speak  of  another  thins." 

"  Yes,  let  us  talk  of  something  else,"  agreed  Bartholemew,  visibly 
glad  to'drop  the  subject  of  supposed  suspicious  doings  on  the  part 
of  his  dashing  and  beautiful  ward. 

"  Take  a  good  look  at  me.  I  am  not  such  a  disagreeable  appear- 
ing man,  am  I?"  was  the  quite  surprising  question  that  next  came 
from  the  captain. 

"Well,  no;  rather  a  handsome  man,  if  I  do  not  flatter  you  too 

broadly." 

"  And  I  have  the  honor  to  stand  pretty  well  in  your  esteem,  I 
believe,  eh,  Bartholemew?" 

"  High  indeed,  sir,  "  answered  the  wondering  old  gentleman. 

"  Then,  sir,  let  me  say  that  the  chief  object  in  my  coming  here 
to-night  is  to  ask  that  I  may  have  your  permission  and  aid  in 
securing  the  beautiful  Miss  Belle  for  my  wife.  I  am,  as  you  know, 
pretty  well  supplied  with  the  necessary  cash  to " 

"Heigho!"  breaking  in.    "Are  you  in  love  with  my  ward?" 

"  That  is  precisely  it." 

"This  is  a  surprise." 

"Will  vou  aid  my  suit  with  her?" 

"  Nowthat  is  something."  half  whined  old  Bartholemew,  "  that 
^  hesitate  to  undertake.  Belle  is  pretty  much  her  own  mis- 
tress.    .      -e  no  objection  to    such  a  match,  but   to   aid  you 

Hark!  I  thihii .  -  is  coming  now.  Suppose  you  try  your  suit  your- 
self." 

And  as  if  glad  of  an  iti^  "option  that  just  then  occurred,  he 
arose  and  stepped  toward  tht^^.. '' 

The  interruption  was  a  sound  ol^i.  ?^ly  galloping  horsehoofs  on 
the  short  path  leading  up  from  the  roa^  'o  the  house. 

Pomp,  the  negro  boy  was  seen  to  flitswiK'-^  past  the  doorway,  as 
if  to  meet  the  comer. 


10  OLD  FUSEE. 

Captatn  Striker  stood  facing  the  entrance,  stroking  his  mustache 
in  quiet  expectancy. 


CHAPTER  III. 

BELLE   BARTHOLEMEW. 

While  he  stood  at  the  door  waiting  the  entrance  of  some  new  ar- 
rival, James  Bartholemew  was  saying,  in  his  mind  : 

"Forsooth!  this  Captain  Striker  is  a  blunt  fellow— a  man  with 
considerable  assurance.  Hardly  a  year  have  I  known  him,  and 
presuming  upon  the  fact  that  I  have  always  made  him  very  wel- 
come at  my  house,  he  asks  me  for  my  ward  as  a  wife  as  coolly  as 
he  would  for  the  loan  of  a  horse.  I  am  glad  Belle  is  here.  I 
think  that  is  she  on  the  path.  Zounds !  I  hardly  knew  how  to  an- 
swer him." 

The  captain,  mentally,  as  he  looked  first  toward  the  dark  entry- 
way  and  then  at  the  form  of  old  Bartholemew : 

"He  evaded  me— the  rat!  but  I  have  made  up  my  mind  that 
Miss  Belle  is  the  most  beautiful  girl  I  ever  saw,  and  that  I  shall 
have  her  for  a  wife.  I  think  I  have  a  means  of  compelling  both 
him  and  her  to  listen  agreeably  to  my  offer  of  marriage." 

The  something  which  Striker  iuwardly  promised  himself  was  to 
insure  the  success  of  his  suit  for  the  hand  of  the  Southern  beauty, 
has  been  in  a  measure  shown  in  his  brief  conversation  of  the  pre- 
vious chapter. 

In  a  chapter  to  follow,  the  reader  will  see  what  good  cause  the 
Confederate  ofQcer  had  to  believe  that  the  young  girl  was  a  spy 
for  the  hated  army  of  the  Xorth. 

Outside  was  heard  the  hoofstrokes  of  a  dashing  rider  who  seem- 
ed careless  whether  the  horse  plunged  directly  into  the  house  as  it 
came  forward. 

Suddenly,  as  if  there  had  been  a  fierce  jerk  on  the  bridle  by  a 
master  hand,  the  sound  ceased,  and  simultaneously  : 

"Pomp!"  rung  a  cheery,  musical  voice. 

' '  Hy er,  Miss  Belle. ' ' 

"Yes,  it  is  Belle,"  again  muttered  Bartholemew,  not  loud 
enough  for  his  companion  to  hear.  "  Now,  then,  let  us  see  what 
she  will  say  to  this  bold  Captain  Striker  if  he  is  bold  as  to  a«k  h»»- 
to  marry  him— and  I  think  he  is  bold  enough  for  anytliiur  " 

"  She  comes,"  passed  within  the  expectant  brain  r>*' 
he  fondled  his  luxuriant  mustache  and  smile^, 
promise  based  both  upon  conceit  and  tb'  '^* 

chose,  he  could  make  considerable  tr'^;,         

Bartholemew.  "  If  she  will  list.^\^'  though  the  laugh  was  not 
other  woman  would  consi-  '^^"^^  ^f^^  ^^^^^^,  'I  *^  ^PP^.^^'  "  ^^ 
be  plain  sailing,  and  I^.^^^J^^^^^^^^^^^y^"  ^"  t^« 

cliuGS   I*^"wcj11  let  '^'  "^ 

'  '     riemed  to  be  somewhat  puzzled. 

/ 
< 


OLD  rrsEE.  11 

A  quick,  firm  footstep  in  the  hall,  then  into  the  room  walked  a 
very  vision  of  loveliness. 

"How  do  you  do  Uncle  Jira  ?" 

"  '  How  do  you  do?  you  say,  and  you  have  been  gone  all  day. 
Look,  you  miss " 

"There,  there,  now  ;  don't  scold.    Who " 

She  was  about  to  ask  who  the  visitor  was,  as  her  eyes  rested  on 
him  suddenly. 

Then: 

"  Good-evening,  Captain  Striker." 

The  captain  bowed  his  profoundest. 

They  had  not  met  more  than  half  a  dozen  times— always  under 
her  guardian's  roof— but  in  those  few  meetings,  Belle  had  detected, 
with  a  woman's  quick  wit,  a  stamp  in  the  features  of  Captain 
Striker,  which,  to  a  woman,  are  at  once  and  unalterably  repel- 
lant. 

Bartholemew  seemed  to  be  briefly  hushed  by  the  smiling  admon- 
ition not  to  scold. 

But  as  the  lovely  brunette  slowly  drew  off  her  riding  gloves,  an 
oppressive  silence  fell  upon  the  trio. 

"  I  have  done  myself  the  honor  to  call  this  evening,  Miss  Belle," 
said  the  captain,  "upon  a  very  important  matter  which  concerns 
both  you  and  me." 

"  Concerns  me  ?    Important  ?    What  can  it  be  ?" 

"  May  I  hope  that  you  are  not  too  tired  after  your  unusually 
long  ride  to  hear  what  I  have  to  say?" 

"  Excuse  me,"  said  old  Bartholemew,  and  he  whisked  out  of 
sight  into  the  hall,  mumbling  as  he  went:  "Oho!  he  is  bold 
enough.  He  will  jump  right  into  the  business  of  asking  her  to 
marry  him.  A  dashing  fighter  is  Captain  Striker.  Let  us  see  if  he 
can  win  a  victory  here." 

It  was  evic^ent  by  the  old  gentleman's  expression  of  face  that  he 
had  no  idea  of  his  lovely  ward  accepting  the  captain's  suit-. 

"  What  is  it. you  have  to  say  to  me?"  she  inquired,  constrain- 
edly, and  taking  a  seat  not  far  from  the  still  standing  officer. 

"  You  must  be  aware,  Miss  Belle,  that  I  am  a  soldier  of  no  mean 

reputation.    I  am  alst)  a  man  of  some    means.    I  will  be  plain  in 

:.7 -.-tT  v,ave  to  say.    I  have  seen  but  little  of  you,  but  that  brief 

tress.    I  ha\  ^  has  resulted  in  my  feeling  a  very  deep  regard  for  you, 

Hark !  I  think  sl^^gire  you  to  become  my  wife." 

self."  Mmmediately  risen,  with  brows  elevated, 

And  as  if  glad  of   an  interf  tamazement. 
arose  and  stepped  toward  the  hairoy  heart  and  hand.  Miss  Belle?" 

The  interruption  was  a  sound  of  rixpesponse. 
the  short  path  leading  up  from  the  road "i she  thought  him  out  of  his 

Pomp,  the  negro  boy  was  seen  to  flitswifti> 
if  to  meet  the  comer.  disconcerted  by  this 


12  OLD  FUSEE. 

He  bowed  his  peculiarly  i^rofouud  bow.  and  said  ; 

"  It  is  not  altogether  unexpected  by  me— this  answer.  But  be 
kind  enough  to  listen  to  me " 

"  Not  further  upon  this  subject,  sir." 

Calmly  he  stroked  his  mustache,  pulling  the  ends;  until  his  lips 
dragged  slightly  apart  and  showed  his  white  teeth  disagreeably. 

"  It  will  probably  be  better  for  yourself.  Miss  Belle,  if  you  hear 
what  I  shall  say,  since  I  see  that  1  cannot  woo  you  as  a  lover  might. 
Will  you  please  tell  me  how  long  you  have  been  absent  from  your 
home— where  you  were  at  about  this  hour  last  night  T'" 

"Captain  Striker,  I  consider  this  impertmence." 

"  For  your  own  good,  answer  me,"  he  urged,  in  the  tone  of  a  man 
who  would  compel  obedience. 

Belle  was  erect.  She  gathered  her  rich,  gray  hued  riding  habit 
up  over  one  arm— the  movement  displaying  a  dainty  booted  fool 
that  wore  a  glistening  spur — and  into  her  cheeks  rose  an  additional 
color  of  indignation  at  the  captain's  manner  and  speech. 

Some  quick,  resentful  word  was  upon  the  ripe  lips  but  she  con- 
trolled the  impulse  and  merely  gazed  at  him  in  haughty  silence. 

"  For  your  own  good.  Miss  Belle,  tell  me,  if  you  dare,  where  you 
were  at  about  this  hour  last  ni^^ht?" 

"  I  decline  to  answer.    Since  when  were  you  constituted  grand 

inquisitor,  sir?    Excuse  me "    She  would  have  .swept  past  him 

and  from  the  room,  but  he  detained  her  with  outstretched  hand, 
and  the  smile  on  his  bold,  dissipated  features  was  ominous 

"  A  moment." 

"Let  me  pass.  Captain  Striker." 

"  Not  until  I  have  said  what  I  have  to  say." 

Deeper  grew  the  color  in  the  cheeks  of  the  warm  blooded  South- 
ern girl. 

"Miss  Belle,  it  pains  me,"  he  said,  with  a  hypocritical  tone  it 
was  impossible  to  conceal,  "to  inform  you  that  in  these  times  there 
is  little  attention  paid  to  sex  when  a  spy  is  taken  in  the  very  midst 
of  camp.  I  am  sure  it  would  make  me  feel  sad  to  see  so  "beautiful 
a  girl  as  yourselt  dangling  at  the  end  of  a  rope." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  she  demanded,  sharply. 

"  Ah,  Miss  Belle,  you  wear  a  popular  suit  of  gray,  and  you  make 
everybody  believe  that  you  are  a  true  Confederate.  But  you  are 
playing  a  dangerous  game — a  very  dangerous  game,  I  assure  you. 
Come,  1  know,  and  there  are  others  who  know,  that  you  are  in 
communication  with  the  Yankee  foe — I  myself  saw  you,  last  night, 
handing  papers  to  a  ragged  fellow,  a  companion  spy  no  doubt,  near 
the  Potomac  ford " 

He  was  abruptly  checked. 

Belle  advanced  to  a  position  directly  in  front  of  him,  and  her 
lustrous  black  eyes  flashed  a  dangerous  fire. 

"You  lie,  Captain  Striker.  It  is  not  a-  pretty  speech  from  a 
woman's  lips— but  I  say,  you  lie !     Stand  aside." 


OLD   FUSEE. 


13 


'•  Beware!"  he  said,  sibilantly.  '  I  can  prove  what  I  am  saying. 
It  is  iu  my  power  lo  destroy  even  so  lovely  a  being  as  yourself.  I 
love  you ' 

"  You  love !"  she  interrupted,  with  a  cutting  sneer. 

"  Ay,  and  so  madly  that,  if  you  cannot  accept  an  honorable 
man's  suit,  I  shall " 

To  her  bosom  leaped  one  of  her  plump,  strong  hands.  The  next 
instant  she  had  him  covered  by  the  muzzle  of  a  gleaming  revolver 
Her  voice  was  terribly  impressive  as  she  cried,  in  an  anger  still 
under  a  wonderful  control : 

"  Stand  away  from  that  door!  Hesitate  a  minute,  and  as  sure  as 
there  is  a  Heaven  above,  I  will  send  a  bullet  through  you !" 

Reckless  soldier  though  he  was.  Captain  Striker  was  not  exactly 
a  fool.  He  must  have  been  aware  of  her  nature,  for  he  instantly 
obeyed  the  order,  while  the  frowning  barrel  followed  his  move- 
ments until  he  had  made  clear  the  way  to  the  door. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

A   GHOST  AT  THE  STABLE. 

At  the  moment  Belle  would  have  passed  by  and  left  her  insuUer, 
there  transpired  something  that  was  a  little  startling,  causing  her 
to  pause. 

From  somewhere  outside  the  house  there  rung  up  a  yell  as  of 
some  one  in  mortal  terror. 

Not  a  single  yell,  either,  for  following  the  first  sound  was  a  suc- 
cession of  cries  that  were  almost  blood-curdling. 

A  step  that  was  recognizable  as  that  of  James  Bartholemew  was 
heard  hastening  along  the  hall. 

The  next  instant  he  was  demanding  sternly  of  some  one  who  ap- 
proached with  scampering  feet 

"  Hello,  here !  what  the  dogs  is  the  matter?  Speak  out,  you  little 
black  imp!" 

Following  this,  the  voice  of  Pomp,  wailing,  moaning,  stuttering 
in  overwhelming  affright  • 

"  Oh,  de  good  Lord  !  Oh,  sabe  me,  Massa  James  !  Oh,  de  ghost— 
de  ghost!    Outdar— oh!" 

"  Ghost  ?    What  are  you  talking  about  ?    Speak  ?" 

The  pair  who  formed  the  tableau  in  the  parlor  could  hear  every 
word  uttered. 

Both  were  listening,  to  catch  whatever  the  singular  disturbance 
might  mean,  though  Belle  still  held  the  officer  under  the  aim  of 
her  gleaming  weapon. 

*'  I'se  done  see'  de  ghost,  Massa  James — f o'  sure  I  has.  Out  dar 
by  de  stable!"  jabbered  Pomp,  brokenly. 

"  Bah!  what  kind  of  a  ghost,  you  scary  jackanapes'" 

*'  Miss  Belle." 

"Miss  Belle?    How " 


14  OLD  rrsBi, 

••  Oh,  de  good  Lord !  Hyer  I  see  Miss  Belle  go  in  de  parlor  while  t 
took  de  ho8S  to  de  stable,  and  dar— and  dar—oh,  Massa  James!— 
dar  1  see  Miss  Belle  ag'in,  a»standin'  dar  by  de  do  .  an'  'longsivie  o' 
her  anoder  ghost  like  debil  hisself  with  ha'ry  face,  wot  skeered  de 
lifeouten  me!" 

"  Pomp,  you  little  ass,  did  you  put  Miss  Belles  horse  away  and 
give  him  feed?" 

"  iso,  'ndeedy,  Massa  James.  I  jes'  flew  away  from  dar,  an'  I 
can't  go  back  no  more  dis  night,  if  youse  lick  de  hide  off'n  me — 
'deed  I  can't.  De  ghost,  de  oder  presence  ob  Miss  Belle,  am  a 
stalkin'  roun'  dar." 

•'Bah!" 

And  here  sounded  something  like  a  kick,  which  brought  addi- 
tional wailing  from  black  Pomp. 

Into  the  captain's  eyes  had  come  a  singular  light  as  he  heard  the 
frightened  avowals  of  the  negro  boy. 

To  Belle  it  contained  no  import  beyond  the  fact  that  something 
had  frightened  the  lad.  which  he  had  magnified  into  a  ghost.  But 
she  did  understand  that  her  horse,  an  animal  she  idolized,  was  be- 
ing neglected  after  the  hard  ride  she  had  given  him,  and  availing 
of  the  captain's  prompt  obedience  to  stand  aside,  she  hurried  past 
him,  giving  him  no  more  thought  than  if  he  did  not  exist. 

In  the  hall  she  passed  old  Bartholemew  and  the  moaning,  terri- 
fied Pomp,  saying: 

"Don't  scold  him,  Uncle  Jim.  He  is  only  a  boy,  and  I  suppose  he 
has  imagined  himself  frightened  at  something.  I  will  attend  to 
Diamond." 

Bartholemew  returned  to  the  parlor. 

Captain  Striker  was  walking  to  and  fro,  his  sword  raised  rest- 
ingly  over  his  arm. 

"  So  you  thought  you  would  come  back  to  say  good-by  to  a 
guest,  did  you?"  he  half  snapped,  turning  toward  the  ratty-faced 
old  man. 

"  Now,  my  dear  captain,  what  is  the  matter?" 

"The  matter  is  that  I  have  been  rejected.  And  the  matter  is 
that  I  do  not  mean  it  shall  stand  that  way.  Harkee :  1  believe 
you  have  that  negro  scamp  trained  to  swear  to  anything  you  may 
say  to  shield  your  ward  from  suspicion.  But  it  won't  work.  I  am 
going  from  here  to  inform  Lee,  himself,  that  the  worst  spy  of  all 
the  Yankee  host  is  Belle  Bartholemew.  You  ^re  harboring  and 
shielding  her.  You  know  all  about  her  doings.  We'll  see  if  I  can- 
not be,  at  least,  revenged  upon  her  if  I  cannot  have  her  for  my 
own ;  and  you  will  feel  what  Captain  Jack  Striker  can  do  when  he 
makes  up  his  mind." 

Striker  was  evidently  in  a  riot  of  rage.  His  thick,  dark  brows 
were  knit  in  a  terrible  frown. 

The  old  man  threw  himself  into  a  chair  with  a  weary  sigh. 

"  I  cannot  help  what  you  do,  captain.    1  know  you  are  misin- 


OLD   FUSEE.  15 

formed,  that  you  have  beeu  deceived  by  your  owu  eyes.    Belle  is 
imiocent  of  the  charge.    But  I  cau  say  no  more.'' 

With  an  ungentlemanly  oath,  the  tall  captain  started  from  the 
house. 

Hardly  had  he  left  the  porch,  when  he  was  arrested  by  the  ap- 
proach of  a  squad  of  mounted  men,  whose  sabers  jangled  as  they 
rode  forward. 

"Hello,  captain  !"  saluted  the  leader  of  the  new  arrivals,  famil- 
iarly.   "  Have  you  been  long  here?" 

Striker  was  well  acquainted  with  the  leader  of  the  rangers. 

"  About  half  an  hour,"  he  answered,  after  an  exchange  of  greet- 
iug.    "Why  do  you  ask?" 

*'  Let  me  have  a  word  with  you." 

The  ranger  leader  threw  himself  from  his  horse,  and  beckoned 
Striker  to  one  side. 

"  1  am  doing  a  little  business  on  my  own  account,"  he  said,  in  an 
undertone.  "For  some  time  past  I  havd  seen  a  young  lady  gal- 
loping around  the  country  on  a  black  horse,  and  she  attired  in  a 
full  suit  of  gray.  A'very  pretty  girl— lovely,  in  fact.  Last  night 
she  crossed  the  Antietam  below  the  last  bridge.  To-night  I  got  on 
her  track  again,  and  we  traced  her " 

"  Well  ?"  as  the  other  hesitated. 

"  Traced  her  here!" 

"Hush!"  admonished  Striker,  quickly  grasping  the  ranger's 
arm.  "  Not  so  loud,  my  friend.  I  am  on  the  same  trail.  Did  you 
recognize  this  girl,  or  woman,  whom  you  suspect— for  I  see  you 
have  suspicions  ?" 

"  Of  course  I  have  suspicions.  I  believe  her  to  be  a  spy.  No,  I 
haven't  had  a  square  look  at  her  face." 

"  Then  I  am  further  on  the  trail  than  you.  Be  guided  by  me  to 
some  extent." 

"All  right." 

"  Come  inside.    You  are  acquainted  with  old  Bartholemew  ?" 

"No." 

"  Well,  I  will  make  you  acquainted.    Come." 

The  two  captains  entered  the  house. 

Bartholemew  was  still  seated  where  Striker  had  left  him. 

In  the  old  man's  face  was  a  dejected  look;  for  he  had  been  mut- 
tering : 

"  She'll  be  the  ruin  of  me— of  us  both.  What  can  she  be  doing? 
I  know  she  indulges  in  wild  rides,  but  I  cannot  believe  that  she  is 
false  to  the  Sunny  South  ?    No     Ah  !  new-comers." 

He  heard  the  sound  of  approaching  horsemen  without. 

Upon  the  reappearance  of  Captain  Striker,  accompanied  by  an- 
other in  regimental  gray,  he  arose  to  receive  them. 

"A  friend  of  mine,"  Striker  introduced,  "  Captain  Sorrel.  Be 
acquainted,  gentlemen," 


16  OLD  FUSEE. 

Whatever  might  have  passed  upon  this  introduction,  it  was  in- 
terrupted strangely. 

As  the  two  men  ad\anced  to  grasp  hands,  a  pistol-shot  sounded 
outside. 

It  was  m  the  rear. 

Following  the  shot,  a  clatter  of  iron  shod  hoofs. 

"  Something  has  happened  to  my  ward  !"  exclaimed  Barthole- 
mew. 

He  ran  past  the  two  officers  and  out  to  the  rear. 

Also  carious  to  know  what  the  shot  signified,  they  followed. 

They  were  just  in  time  to  catch  a  glimpse— an  uncertain  glimpse 
in  the  gloom  of  the  night— of  a  fleeing  rider  who  was  making  away 
by  the  field  beyond  the  stables.  This  rider  was  a  woman,  whose 
long  habit  streamed  far  out  behind  the  swift  horse. 

An  examination  of  the  stable  revealed  that  Belle's  favorite  beast, 
Diamond,  was  missing. 

The  rangers,  attracted  by  the  shot,  had  come  around  from  the 
front. 

Striker  whispered  something  into  the  ear  of  Captain  Sorrel. 

"No!"  exclaimed  the  latter;  "you  don't  mean  it?" 

"  But  I  do  And  I  tell  you,  you  are  right,  for  I  myself  saw  the 
girl  hand  some  papers  to  a  fellow  in  rags,  at  the  ford,  last  night. 
Off  with  you!" 

"  Follow  me,  lads!"  cried  Sorrel,  to  his  men. 

In  a  few  seconds  the  rangers,  with  Sorrel  at  their  head,  were  gal- 
loping away  in  the  wake  of  the  apparent  fugitive. 

"Soho!  that  is  the  game  this  pretty  girl  is  playing,  is  it?"  he 
muttered,  by  jerks,  on  his  speeding  animal.  "  Well,  I  should  hate 
mightily  to  kill  a  woman,  but  if  lean  come  up  once  more  with 
this  bold  spy  in  petticoats,  I  shall  either  bring  her  in  a  prisoner  or 
have  her  bored  with  bullets,  depend!" 

"You  see,"  said  Captain  Striker,  maliciously,  to  old  Barthole- 
mew,  "  they  are  even  now  after  your  ward.  I  shall  have  some  re- 
venge, mind  that,  if  I  cannot  possess  the  lovely  Belle." 

He  wheeled  off  and  was  presently  lost  in  the  darkness. 

Bartholemew  had  returned  to  the  house,  his  own  mind  in  con- 
siderable perplexity. 

'  Can  it  be  that  it  is  so,  after  all  ?"  he  questioned  himself. 

For  some  time  there  remained  a  few  negroes  at  the  stable,  dis- 
cussing the  singular  action  of  Miss  Belle,  in  dashing  away  as  she 
had  done,  when  she  had  so  shortly  since  returned  after  a  whole 
day's  absence. 


CHAPTER  V. 

CHASING     A     SPY. 

Straight  to  the  center-table,  whereon  stood  the  decanter,  went 
James  Bartholemew  on  re-entering  the  parlor. 


OL,D   FUSEE.  17 

He  took  a  deep  draft  of  the  wine,  and  while  wiping  his  lips,  was 
thinking  upon  the  really  remarkable  charge  made  by  Captain 
Striker  against  his  ward. 

In  another  moment  his  glance  rested  upon  something  that  had 
not  been  on  the  table  when  he  hurried  out  to  see  what  could  have 
caused  the  pistol-shot. 

A  folded  paper !  The  paper  tied  with  a  string  to  a  small  pebble. 
Some  one  must  have  been  within  the  room  during  his  absence. 
What  was  the  paper? 

Curiously  he  took  it  up  and  unfolded  it. 

The  next  insrant  he  uttered  a  short,  low  cry,  and  half  staggered 
back,  clapping  one  hand  on  his  brow. 

What  he  read  upon  the  paper  was  this  : 

"James  Bartholemew,  beware!  Fane  Fusor  still  lives.  The 
sacred  trust  that  was  his  shall  yet  be  carried  out,  despite  your  vil- 
lamy." 

"  His  writing  !  his  writing  !"  burst  from  Bartholemew's  lips,  as 
from  one  overcome  by  a  combined  fear  and  amazement.  "Can 
the  dead  rise  to  life  again?  Am  I  dreaming?  Save  my  soul!  if 
Fane  Fusor  is  alive,  after  all,  what  reckoning  will  he  not  call  me 
to!" 

Trembling  with  a  great  excitement,  he  filled  again  the  large 
wine-glass  and  drained  it. 

Crumpling  the  paper  into  his  pocket,  he  cast  guilty  glances 
around,  and  muttered,  in  a  strange  way,  over  and  over 

"Fane  Fasor  (ilive!  What  is  going  to  happen  now  ?  and  I  can- 
not account  for  everything  I  have  wasted  and  I  have  spent  too 
much  of  the  trust ;  I  have  lost  sight  of  one  whose  life  to  him,  1 
know,  was  as  precious  as  his  own.  Curse  the  fate  that  ever 
brought  Fane  Fusor  back  to  life,  when  I  so  surely  thought  him 
dead— dead  long  ago." 

A  remarkable  change  had  come  over  James  Bartholemew  with- 
in those  few  seconds.  He  looked  now  like  a  man  who  momentari- 
ly expects  to  be  confronted  by  something  or  somebody  whose 
presence  could  terrify  him  to  his  soul's  core — looked  a  very  crimi- 
nal, nervous,  snapping,  searching  glances  about,  and  with  one 
hand  in  his  pocket  crunching  the  mysterious  piece  of  paper  which 
had  so  wrought  upon  him. 

While  this  scene  transpired  in  the  home  of  James  Bartholemew, 
far  to  the  north,  beyond  the  sunken  road  leading  to  the  canal,  on, 
on  sped  the  mounted  form  of  a  female  with  the  rangers  m  hot  pur- 
suit. 

Surely  it  must  be  Belle ! 

She  wore  the  habit  of  rich  gray,  the  same  jaunty  hat,  the  same 
face,  beautiful  and  resolute,  beneath  the  hat. 

She  was  making  toward  the  woods  to  the  northwest  of  Sharps- 
burg,  and  fearlessly  she  rode  the  steed  so  well  known  as  belonging 
to  Belle. 


18  OLD  FUSEE. 

"  Courage,  good  horse ;  keep  it  up,  good  fellow;  we'll  soon  be 
safe  from  those  coming  behind,"  she  spoke  to  the  animal,  which 
seemed  to  be  exerting  its  muscles  with  an  almost  human  knowl- 
edge of  the  pursuers  in  the  rear. 

Her  voice,  too,  was  the  voice  of  Belle  Bartholemew. 

To  herlright  were  the  fires  of  the  Confederate  army,  then  stretching 
northward  beyond  Piper's  and  swerved  near  the  Dunker  church  ; 
further  off,  the  heights  whereagreat  battle  was  soon  to  be  fought, 
the  inner  pickets  of  the  Confederate  host  were  nearly  to  the  course 
she  was  pursuing. 

She  seemed  to  have  a  thorough  knowledge  of  her  rout  to  avoid 
the  sentries,  for  soon  she  neared  the  grim  trees  and  urged  the  horse 
into  their  depths. 

Scarcely  had  she  gone  a  dozen  yards  when  a  low,  signaling  whis- 
tle arrested  her. 

"  Fusee?"  she  called,  checking  on  the  rein. 

"Here." 

Forward  from  the  almost  impenetrable  shade  came  the  figure  of 
a  man. 

"  1  am  pursued.    Act  quickly ;  what  shall  we  do  ?" 

Even  as  she  spoke  they  could  hear  the  coming  gallop  of  the  rang- 
ers. 

They  were  closely  pressed. 

"  Dismount !"  said  the  man.  "  There  are  not  many.  We  can  re- 
ceive them.  Out  with  your  revolver,  and  use  it  when  they  are 
close." 

On  plunged  the  horsemen. 

Captain  Sorrel  had  strained  to  his  utmost  to  overtake  the  fugi- 
tive ere  she  could  reach  the  shelter  of  the  woods,  and  he  was  well 
mounted,  for,  by  the  time  the  girl  had  dismounted,  he  and  his 
men  were  at  the  edge  of  the  trees. 

"  On,  boys!"  they  heard  him  shout.  "  She  is  in  here;  four  of  you 
make  around  and  cross  the  road  and  get  to  the  back  of  the  woods. 
She  is  aiming  for  the  pike." 

Satisfied  that  he  was  on  the  track  of  a  spy,  Sorrel  gave  these  or- 
ders :  for  not  yet  had  the  brigades  of  Early  and  Jackson  reached 
their  assigned  posts  on  the  left,  and  a  bold  dash  might  readily  carry 
her  safely  across  or  around  to  the  ford  at  Pry's  mill. 

But  the  girl  and  the  man,  in  the  silent  depths,  awaited  Captain 
Sorrell,  to  receive  him  in  a  manner  that  was  to  be  a  huge  sur- 
prise. 

"  Is  it  safe  to  use  our  weapons  ?"  asked  the  girl.     "  Will  the  noise 
not  be  apt  to  bring  (Town  upon  us  a  force  larger  than  this  one  be- 
fore us?" 
''- 1  think  not.    Ready !    Here  they  come !" 

Sorrel,  followedlby  six  rangers— four  haviugstarted  immediately 
to  obey  the  order  for  the  interception  of  the  female  spy— rapidly 
entered  the  double  gloom  of  foliage  and  night. 


OLD  rrsEE.  m 

**Now!"  whispered  the  man  In  ambush,  to  the  girl  at  his  side. 
From  their  covert,  the  forms   of   the   rangers  were  plainly  out- 
lined against  the  sky  beyond. 

Suddenly  there  broke  the  snappy  crack  of  revolvers  and  the 
whistle  of  bullets  cutting  the  leaves. 

Both  man  and  girl  were  good  shots,  for  the  discharge  produced 
a  chorus  of  howls  that  told  of  smarting,  if  not  fatal,  wounds.  And 
Sorrel,  himself  unharmed,  vented  a  hot  oath  as  he  saw  two  of  his 
men  topple  from  their  saddles. 

The  unexpected  volley  had  the  effect  of  checking  the  advancing 
rangers.  "Few  men,  however  brave,  care  to  face  an  enemy  they 
cannot  see,  and  whose  marksmanship  is  made  manifest  to  deadli- 
ness.  All  halted,  and  while  one  of  the  wounded  men  on  the 
ground  set  up  a  series  of  painful  moans,  the  others  seemed  inclined 
to  retreat. 
"Forward,  1  say  I"  commanded  Sorrel. 

*'  But,  cap,  we'll  be  laid  out  to  a  man  in  this  place " 

A  curse  was  upon  the  ranger  captain's  lips  when  again  the  re- 
volvers barked,  and  the  second  discharge  revealing  that  there  was 
a  foe  more  than  the  pursued  girl  within  the  impervious  darkness, 
Sorrell  also  appeared  to  suddenly  think  that  it  would  be  better  to 
get  out  of  the  predicament. 

"Back,  then!"  he  ordered;  "but  we'll  remain  here  till  we  hear 
from  the  others.  Daylight,  I  guess,  will  give  us  a  chance  to  dis- 
lodge whoever  is  in  there."  And  to  himself  he  added,  in  a  rageful 
chagrin  :  "  Blast  the  girl,  if  I  catch  her  now  it  shall  go  hard  with 
her.  Is  wear!" 

Withdrawing  a  short  distance  he  disposed  of  his  men  in  singles 
over  a  semi-circle  which  commanded  the  whole  of  that  side  where 
the  spy  had  entered,  and  riding  to  and  fro  from  his  improvised 
posts,  he  waited  doggedly  for  daylight  which  was  yet  many  hours 
distant. 

"  You  had  better  take  the  information  I  can  give  you,"  said  the 
girl  to  her  companion,  and  her  voice  was  that  of  one  who  must 
have  been  accustomed  to  danger,  so  even  was  it  in  the  moment  of 
this  trying  adventure.  "It  is  important,  and  it  matters  nothing 
about  me.  I  have  been  in  worse  scrapes  than  this  since  McClellan 
left  Frederick,  and  I've  always  come  out  all  right,  haven't  I,  you 
dear  old  Fusee?" 

"  Bless  your  bright  eyes,  yes,  you  have;  but  I  sometimes  fear  I 
do  a  great  sin  when  I  let  you  dash  into  the  dangers  you  do." 

"'  Don't  worry.  There,  now,  while  those  fellows  are  waiting  for 
us  to  come  out  into  their  clutches  listen  to  the  news  and  be  off 
with  it.  I  know  pretty  much  the  whole  programme  for  receiving 
McClellan.  I  was  all  through  Longs t reefs  corps  to-day  disguised 
as  an  old  negro  woman  with  home-made  pies;  but  the  news.  The 
bridges  are  already  garrisoned  strongly.  Only  the  furthest  one 
north  will  afford  an  easy  crossing,    Hill  will  be  on  the  right.  Hood 


20  OLD  FUSEE. 

is  uow  posting  on  the  ^lef t.  The  place  to  attack  is  on  the  left. 
Altogether,  there  are  not  over  forty  thousand  men  in  line.  That 
is  all." 

"Good-by,  then,  my  bonny  Belle,"  and  with  the  words,  the  man 
glided  like  a  specter  from  her  side. 

When  alone  she  performed  something  that  showed  she  was  pre- 
pared for  just  such  emergencies  as  the  one  in  which  she  now  found 
herself.  From  a  capacious  pocket  she  drew  forth  four  square  and 
ample  pieces  of  cloth  provided  with  buckles  and  extra  twine.  In 
a  few  minutes  she  had  muffled  the  hoofs  of  her  horse,  and  then 
slowly  began  to  move  from  the  spot,  making  no  betrayal  noise  as 
she  went. 

And  her  companion  had  called  her  "  Belle." 

It  surely  seemed  that  the  bold  Captain  Striker  was  right  in 
charging  her  with  being  a  spy. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

OliD    FUSEE. 

On  this  night  of  the  fifteenth  of  September  the  tfnion  army  was 
fast  distributing  into  its  position  for  the  coming  battle,  as  well  in 
the  darkness  as  in  the  light  of  the  late  afternoon  on  which  it  had 
arrived   at  the  east  bank  of  Antietam  creek. 

At  his  headquarters  the  great  general  was  planning  his  method 
of  attack  with  counsellors  both  wise  and  impetuous. 

A  night  not  to  be  soon  forgotten  by  those  who  survive  to-day 
the  solemn  moments  there  at  Pry's  mill. 

But  McClellan,  though  admirably  informed  so  far  of  the  enemy's 
movements,  was  then  waiting  for  something  of  which  his  brave 
officers  knew  nothing;  and  there  were  those  who  attributed  his 
humor  to  that  same  spirit  which  may  have  designated  fatal  slow- 
ness in  the  army  he  led. 

The  famous  strategist,  however,  knew  what  he  was  about. 

The  night  was  far  gone  when  an  aide  appeared  and  saluted, 
with  the  information  that  some  one  had  demanderl  an  audience. 

Those  who  stood  near  saw  a  sudden  light  overspread  their  com- 
mander's countenance,  while  he  answered,  quickly  : 

"  Bring  him  to  me  at  once." 

A  strange  looking  individual  it  was  that  entered. 

A  man  with  a  visage  that  bore  the  scars  of  battles  in  the  distant 

past. 

There  was  but  little  of  his  face  visible,  because  of  a  wonderful 
beard  that  grew  nearly  up  into  his  eyes;  but  on  brow  and  nose, 
and  even  the  eyelids,  were  marks  as  from  steel  slashings. 

Tanned  to  iron-like  darkness,  broad  shouldered,  hands  hairy  and 
hard,  with  livid  scars  on  the  palms  and  backs— it  required  no  sec- 
ond glance  to  see  in  him  a  veteran  who  had  faced  the  shock  of 
war  in  other  times  than  the  now  active  struggle  for  the  Union. 


OLD   PUSEE.  21 

Though  surely  more  than  seveuty  years  of  age,  it  would  appear 
as  if  nature  had  formed  a  knotty  monument  of  endurance  in  his 
frame,  only  showing  her  seamy  ravages  of  time  in  the  long,  snow- 
white  locks  dangling  from  his  head  and  bushing  from  his  jaws. 
His  eyes  were  keen— perhaps  keener— than  those  of  younger  years; 
and  his  figure,  as  he  stood  before  his  general,  had  no  supine  bend,^ 
but  reared  with  the  long  trained  straightness  of  the  soldier. 

His  attire,  while  of  the  Union  blue,  was  almost  without  regula- 
tion in  its  make  up,  and  the  hat,  which  he  dropped  at  his  feet  as 
he  saluted,  was  a  battered  specimen  of  an  army  slouch  that  might 
have  been  excellent  in  other  days. 

Such  was  Old  Fusee,  the  gunner. 

Such  in  appearance,  and  his  fame  as  a  marksman  was  known  in 
many  battles  since  the  notorious  defeat  of  McDowell  at  Bull  Run. 

At  this  time,  he  was  known  to  belong  with  Weaver's  artillery, 
then  stationed  between  headquarters  and  the  turnpike  bridge, 
but  seldom,  except  in  an  engagement,  was  he  to  be  seen  with  the 
battery,  and  few  there  were  who  knew  the  valuable  service  which 
caused  his  absence. 

As  if  expecting  to  receive  something  from  the  comer,  McClellan 
held  out  one  hand. 

Fusee  advanced,  taking  from  an  inner  pocket  a  folded  paper. 

"  Thet  'ar,  gen'ral,"  he  said,  handing  over  the  paper,  "is  a  map 
o'  the  Johnnys  as  it  war  to-day— I  reckon  to-day,  corz  I  got  it  late 
last  night.  Hood's  moving  to  the  Confed'rate  left ;  Hill's  droppin' 
down  tow'rd  the  'Tomac,  an'  all  the  bridges,  'cept  one,  is  ready  to 
blaze  hail  Columbia  into  you  if  you  try  to  pass  'em." 

"  Except  one,  you  say?" 

"This  very  one  up  here— the  most  north'ard.  The  rebs  hev  no 
mor'n  forty  thousand  men  to  fight  agin  you.  But  the  best  way  to 
attack  is  from  the  north.  An'  that,  gen'ral,  with  what  thei  ar' 
map  will  tell  you,  is  all  the  news  I've  got." 

Eagerly  opening  the  rough  map  brought  to  him  by  the  veteran 
who  was  evidently  an  experienced  spy,  McClellan  dismissed  him 
with  one  of  those  compliments  which  he  ever  paid  to  bravery  and 
faithfulness— a  few  words,  no  more,  such  as  made  him  dear  then 
and  remembered  now  among  the  boys  in  blue  who  fought  in  the 
Army  of  the  Potomac. 

Old  Fusee  sought  his  battery  at  its  stand  near  the  Keedysville 
pike,  and  as  he  appeared  among  his  comrades,  after  reporting,  he 
was  greeted  by  a  shout  that  told  full  well  his  vast  popularity. 

When  at  last  he  eould  release  himself  from  the  gripping  hands 
that  would  fairly  have  embraced  him,  he  threw  himself  down  on 
a  little  knoll  on  the  ridge,  his  face  toward  the  Confederate  lines  on 
the  other  side  of  the  Antietam. 

No  blanket  or  covering  needed  he.  He  was  a  child  of  war  whose 
bones  had  absorbed  the  dew  on  many  a  camp  and  battlefield,  who 
hud  foughUand  fell  nigh  wounded  unto  death  on  that  famous  field 


2^  OLD  rUSEE. 

of  Waterloo,  when  the  allies  thundered  the  fate  of  Bonaparte.  He 
was  but  little  more  than  a  youth  then,  but  he  had  held  dear  to 
heart  the  memory  of  the  terrible  day  when  he  had  cast  aside  his 
drum  and  snatched  up  the  colors  from  a  fallen  standard  bearer, 
and  in  his  childish  hands  bore  it  amid  the  shouts  of  strong  men 
dropping  dead  as  they  cheered  beneath  the  avalanche  of  Wel- 
lington. 

A  soldier  indeed  was  Old  Fusee— and  Old  Fusee  was  all  the  name 
he  had  ever  seemed  to  own,  even  when  his  name  was  entered  on 
the  roll  for  re-enlistment,  just  prior  to  the  second  battle  of  Man- 


Quiet  as  a  child  he  fell  asleep  there,  his  head  pillowed  on  his 
strong  arms  bent  folding  under  his  head;  restful  was  his  slumber, 
while  others  around  were  reading  old  letters  from  loved  ones  at 
home,  praying  for  Heaven  to  preserve  them  in  the  coming  strife, 
or,  others  still,  passing  these  few  hours  before  the  red  carnage  in  a 
recklessness  that  bordered  nigh  to  sacrilege. 

Old  Fusee  had  no  letters  to  read ;  his  prayers  were  said ;  only  an 
old,  scarred  veteran  he  seemed,  with  no  one  to  weep  if  he  should 
fall,  no  one  to  miss  him  out  of  the  world's  mass  of  men.  But  had 
some  one  crept  near  to  him  as  he  lay  sleeping  there,  he  might  have 
been  heard  to  murmur  something  in  the  dreams  that  were  his— a 
name  which  issued  from  his  lips  with  a  tenderness  that  told  his 
fast  withering  heart  was  not  desolate,  some  one  was  very  dear  to 
him  somewhere  on  the  face  of  the  earth;  and  the  name  he  uncon- 
sciously uttered  was : 

*'  Belle,  Belle !  my  bonny,  bonny  Belle !  Bless  your  bright  eyes, 
my  bonny  Belle!" 

Short  seems  the  sleep  of  the  soldier  who  lays  on  his  arm  in  ex- 
pectancy of  the  dread  battle  on  the  morrow. 

Boom! 

A  gun  roused  every  sleeping  eye  in  the  army  that  had  dared  to 
sleep. 

The  morning  had  dawned. 

The  morning  of  the  sixteenth ;  and  men  girded  themselves  and 
clinched  their  teeth  in  contemplation  of  what  was  to  come. 

At  his  own  favorite  gun  stood  Old  Fusee,  first  of  all  to  obey  the 
bugle  call. 

The  Confederate  batteries  on  the  west  of  the  Antietam  had  sent 
an  early  reminder  that  they  were  there. 

Promptly  were  their  guns  answered  by  the  boys  in  blue. 

Ere  long  there  raged  a  very  duel  between  the  batteries,  and  Old 
Fusee  appeared  to  be  in  his  element  when  came  the  order  to  open 
fire  on  the  enemy. 

Stripped  to  the  waist,  his  broad  chest  herved  up  in  great  knots 
the  muscles  which  had  been  but  hinted  at  in  his  loose  blouse; 
though  grim  was  his  war-worn  visage,  a  smile,  which  others  saw, 
and  which  sent  a  thrill  of  enthusiasm  to  the  breasts  <5t  those  who 


OLD   FUSEE.  23 

saw,  played  around  his  mouth,  and  his  actious  were  as  calm  and 
trained  as  if  at  some  mere  play  amid  the  shrieking  shot  overhead 
and  around. 

From  Weaver's  battery  came  the  shots  that  told  most  heavily  on 
the  hosts  on  the  opposite  shore.  Yet  it  was  soon  manifest  that  the 
Yankee  gunners  were  far  superior,  in  all  their  artillery  delivery, 
to  the  graycoats. 

The  battle  was  not  to  open  yet,  however. 

Acting  on  the  information  he  had  received  from  Old  Fusee  and 
from  other  quarters,  McClellau  was  concentrating  his  forces  at 
those  points  whence  he  would  hurl  himself  upon  the  stubborn 
lines  across  the  Autietam. 

Hooker  was  moving  to  the  north,  having  crossed  the  bridge. 

Burnside,  at  the  south,  was  to  await  the  order  which,  when  the 
battle  fairly  opened,  would  result  in  carrying  the  Sharpsburg 
crest  and  cut  off  Lee's  retreat  toward  Shepherdstown. 

Crests  and  ridges,  valleys  and  roads,  in  that  early  morning,  were 
swarming  with  the  opposing  hosts  that  would  soon  come  together 
in  the  mighty  clash  of  conflict. 

Still  boomed  the  guns  of  the  dueling  artillerists. 

Marched  and  counter-marched  the  brigades  maneuvering  for 
position. 

The  bugles  blew  their  shrill  blasts,  the  drums  beating  and  colors 
of  North  and  South,  proudly  borne  by  the  glittering  ranks,  were 
floating  defiantly  on  the  air. 

Strange  and  startling  echoes,  these,  in  those  picturesque  hights, 
where  ere  long  the  blood  of  brave  men  was  to  dye  the  sod  in  slip- 
pery streams. 

The  atmosphere  was  gradually  becoming  as  if  compressed  in 
sympathetic  readiness  for  the  terrific  explosion. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

THE  MYSTERIOUS    NOTE. 

As  James  Bartholemew  strode  backward  and  forward  in  his  par- 
lor, in  that  excitement  produced  by  the  mysterious  missive  which 
he  had  found  upon  the  center  table,  he  was  presently  brought  to 
an  abrupt  halt  by  one  of  the  most  remarkable  occurrences  in  his 
life. 

In  the  doorway  stood  Belle  Bartholemew. 

And  he  had  seen  her,  within  a  few  mini  tes,  speeding  far  away 
toward  the  hills,  pursued  by  the  rangers  of  Captain  Sorrel. 

He  paused  still  and  stiff,  gazing  in  unbounded  amazement. 

The  young  girl  s  face  was  unusually  pale ;  iu  her  dark,  lustrous 
eyes  there  was  a  singular,  a  sort  of  anxious  expression. 

"Belle I  ' 

-Well,  Uncle  Jim?" 

'*  Why,  how  the  dogs— where  did  you  come  from?" 


34  oIjD  fusee. 

"Come  from  !  1  haven't  been  anywhere." 

"You  have  not!  Did  you  not  just  now  start  off  again  on  Dia- 
mond, "in  a  wild  race,  with  a  lot  of  mounted  men  after  you  ?" 

"  Does  it  seem  so  ?" 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  degree  of  surprise. 

But  he  marked  her  pale  features— features  that  he  had  never  be- 
fore known  to  be  other  than  rosy  with  buoyant  spirits  or  the  ex- 
citement of  exercise. 

"  What  has  happened,  girl?" 

"Nothing." 

"  Bah  !  do  not  tell  me  that.  You  went  to  the  stable  yourself,  to 
look  after  Diamond  ?" 

"Yes." 

She  advanced  to  a  chair.  A  s  she  sat  down,  he  noticed  that  she 
was  trembling  slightly. 

Quick  orbs  were  the  ratty  eyes  of  James  Bartholemew. 

"  Belle,  there  is  something  going  on  which  is  a  puzzle  to  me— 
something  which  1  have  a  right  to  know  if  you  can  tell  me." 

"  What  can  it  be?" 

"  Where  were  you  last  night  ?" 

Now  she  raised  her  glorious  head,  and  the  wonted  light  came 
into  her  eyes  as  she  answered  promptly,  half  defiantly : 

"  With  Frank  Carlton." 

"What?" 

He  fairly  glared  upon  her. 

"  You  were  with  that  accursed  Yankee!— that  man  to  whom  1 
declared  you  were  never  to  speak  again." 

"  There,  uncle,"  with  some  of  her  usual  lightness  of  spirit,  which 
ever  met  him  in  his  moods  of  anger,  "  that  was  a  long  while  ago, 
at  the  breaking  out  of  the  war.  I  thought,  too,  that  it  would  be 
an  easy  matter  for  me  to  obey  your  commands  regarding  him,  as 
he  went  over  to  the  side  we  both  abhor.  But,  ah,  me !  it  is  a  severe 
thing  to  love,"  she  concluded,  with  a  heavy  sigh. 

"Love,  forsooth!"  he  fumed. 

"  And  when  I  heard  from  him,  that  he  was  in  this  vicinity,  I 
could  not  resist  his  appeal  for  an  interview.  Yes,  I  met  him  last 
night." 

"Where?"  with  fierce  suddenness. 

Then,  as  she  did  not  at  once  answer,  he  continued  : 

"  I  can  tell  you  where  you  trysted  with  this  lover  whom  you 
should  hate  rather  than  love.  It  was  at  the  Potomac  ford.  And  I 
begin  to  see  that  you  are  more  than  a  mere  sweetheart;  you  and 
he  are  spies  in  the  midst  of  the  army  now  in  Sharpsburg.  You 
gave  him  papers  of  some  kind  last  night.  You  are  conveying  in- 
formation to  the  enemy.  And  "—with  increasing  rage — "  and  you 
are  no  ward  of  mine.  There!  I've  said  it.  I  ought  to  have  said  it 
long  ago,  before  you  brought  this  disgrace  upon  us.  I  will  not 
have  a  traitor  about  me!    I'll  disown  you!  I'll   clear  you    out!" 


OLD   FUSEE. 


25 


and  he  paced  back  and  forth  again,  as  he  had  been  doing  when  she 
entered,  flirting  his  coat-tails  up  and  down,  puffing  out  his  attenu- 
ated cheeks,  rolling  his  ratty  eyes  anon  upon  her  in  the  glances  of 
a  man  almost  speechless  with  fury. 

Though  accustomed  to  scolding  from  the  man  who  had  always 
been  an  indulgent  guardian  to  her,  and  to  whom  she  had  long  ago 
learned  that  she  owed  everything  she  had  in  the  world,  this  was  a 
phase  beyond  anything  she  had  experienced  yet. 

Such  rage,  as  was  now  evidently  his,  could  not  be  smothered  out 
by  the  banter  of  ruby  lips  or  twining  arms. 

With  a  quiet  dignity  she  arose,  and  what  she  said  brought  hlin 
to  a  full  stop  before  her,  while  It  sent  another  astonisher  into  the 
mind  of  a  brain  already  filled  with  astonishment  enough  for  one 

evening. 

"  Uncle  Jim,  part  of  your  language  I  do  not  understand.  But 
you,  yourself,  have  taught  me  the  spirit  of  independence  which 
I  think  I  possess,  and  I  shall  take  you  at  your  word.  You  shall 
not  be  burdened  with  one  who  is,  as  you  declare,  a  disgrace  to 
you.  You  need  not  clear  me  out.  I  will  go.  But  what  do  you 
mean  by  saying  that  1  met  Frank  Carlton  at  the  ford  ?  ,1  was 
nowhere  near  there." 

"Oh,  you  were  not ?" 

"  Positively,  no.  Ah!"  in  a  sudden  remembrance,"!  see,  this 
contemptible  idiot,  Captain  Striker,  said  something  about  seeing 
me  there,  too.  I  am  at  a  loss  to  comprehend,  honestly,  Uncle  Jim. 
I  tell  you  I  have  not  been  near  the  ford  for  nearly  a  week.'" 

"Umph!" 

He  turned  short  around  and  left  her. 

/llone.  Belle  pressed  her  hands  to  her  temples  like  one  in  the 
pain  of  some  deep  vvorriment. 

"  What  can  it  all  mean?"  she  murmured,  lowly.  "Who  could 
have  been  this  strange  girl  I  met  at  the  stable,  whose  face  I  could 
not  make  out  in  the  darkness,  and  who  begged  me  to  aid  in  her 
flight  from  a  band  of  men  who,  she  said,  were  in  pursuit  of  her  ? 
What  is  this  tale  about  my  being  at  the  ford  and  handing  papers 
to  a  man  supposed  to  be  a  Union  spy?  I  am  suspected  of  dis- 
loyalty to  the  South— my  own  sweet,  sunny  South!  I  am  in  a 
maze  to-night.  And  Uncle  Jim  never  spoke  to  me  so  harshly  be- 
fore. Does  he  mean  what  he  has  said  ?  Oh,  no  !  I  cannot  think  it. 
I  will  wait  until  to-morrow,  and  if  he  is  still  angry,  then  I  will 
leave  him  forever.  He  has  been  very  kind  to  me  since  I  was  but 
a  babe— a  babe  I  was  when  he  became  my  guardian,  he  says.  It 
will  cost  me  a  struggle  to  leave  him,  but  I  will— I  will ' 

"Miss  Belle?" 

A  negro  girl  was  standing  in  the  doorway.  This  was  Pomp's 
sister. 

"What  is  it,  Topsy?"  recovering  herself  to  conceal  from  the  girl 
that  there  was  aught  amiss. 


26  OL,i)  FUSEE. 

*'  I'se  afraid  de  paper  you  gin  me  fo'  to  lay  on  de  table  has  bro't 
trouble 'twixt  you  an'  Massa  James." 

"  Paper,  Topsy  ?    What  paper?" 

"Why  de  paper  wot  you  gin  me  out  by  de  stable  fo'  to  put  on 
dat  yere  table  whar  Massa  James  mus'  boun'  to  fin'  hit." 

"  I  did  not  give  you  any  paper." 

''Sho,  chile!  an'  hyai's  de  goP  piece  wot  you  gin  me  too.  You's 
forget  hit  mighty  quick,  Miss  Belle." 

"You  must  be  dreaming,  Topsy." 

"Sho!  You  gin  me  a  fol'  up  paper,  an'  say,  'Top,  take  dis  an' 
lay  on  de  table  where  Massa  James  sure  for'  to  fin'  hit,  an'  hyar's 
a  dollar.'  I  done  done  hit.  Den  I  watches  fo'  to  see  if  he  gotten 
hit.  Sure  'nuff,  he  gotten  hit,  an'  den— de  good  Lawd !  he's  act 
jes'  sif  he  war  scared  a  nigh  to  deaf.  An'  den  I  couldn't  help  hit, 
Miss  Belle — I  jes' heerd  you  an'  he's  spattin' in  hyar,  an  so  I'se 
afeard  I  hadn't  oughter  done  hit." 

Belle  saw  that  it  was  useless  to  argue  the  point.  Tonsy  was 
positive;  and  Belle  knew  that  she  had  not  seen  the  sirl  when  she 
had  gone  to  the  stable— though  she  had  seen  some  one  else,  as  may 
be  judged  by  her  perplexed  murmurings. 

"Have  it  your  way,  Topsy.  Bring  me  some  wine;  I  cannot 
touch  the  wine  that  Captain  Striker  has  drank  of." 

A  little  shudder  of  repugnance  for  the  man,  and  thoughts  of  the 
man  passed  over  her. 

The  girl  departed,  leaving  her  young  mistress  in  another  vein  of 
wonderment. 

"  Could  it  have  been  the  person  I  saw  at  the  stable— the  stranger 
who  was  pursued,  she  said,  by  mounted  men — who  paid  Topsy  to 
perform  this  errand  ?  What  kind  of  errand  could  it  have  been,  to 
cause  Uncle  Jim  to  look  '  scared  nigh  to  death  ?'  I " 

She  paused  in  her  self-questioning  as  her  glance  fell  upon  a  slip 
of  paper  on  the  carpet. 

It  was  the  mysterious  missive. 

In  his  rage,  as  he  flirted  his  coat  tails  up  and  down,  Baithole- 
mew  had  unknowingly  jerked  out  the  significant  communication 
which  contained  a  menace  from  a  dreaded  source. 

Leaning  forward,  she  picked  it  up. 

The  next  minute  she  was  reading  the  lines  scribbled  there. 

"This  must  be  the  note  Topsy  alludes  to!  Uncle  Jim  threat- 
ened?—by  a  party  named  Fane  Fasor " 

Topsy's  returning  footsteps  caused  her  to  slip  the  scrawl  out  of 
sight  in  her  pocket. 

Hastily  swallowing  a  small  quantity  of  the  wine,  she  hurried  up 
stairs  to  her  bedroom,  to  read  again  the  remarkable  epistle  and 
rack  her  brain  for  some  solution  of  its  meaning. 

And  scarcely  had  she  disappeared,  when  Bartholemew  re-entered 
the  parlor,  casting  anxious  glances  about  the  floor.  He  had  missed 
the  paper. 


OLD  FUSEE.  ^ 

Treacherous  paper!— for  it  contained  a  hint  at  some  crooked 
deed  in  the  past  of  the  rich  bachelor  which  it  would  not  be  well 
for  him  to  let  the  world  know  at  that  day  in  Belle's  life. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

CAPTURING   A    BRAVE  GIRL. 

She,  whom  we  left  in  the  woods  through  which  ran  the  sunken 
road  to  the  northwest  of  Sharpsburg,  could  not  be  aware  of  the 
picket-like  cordon  that  Captain  Sorrel  had  placed  along  the  front 
of  the  thicket,  nor  of  the  four  rangers  who  had  been  dispatched  to 
iutercept  her  should  she  emerge  at  the  opposite  side  of  her  shelter, 
though  the  order  to  the  latter  had  been  loudly  spoken,  the  noise  of 
the  horses'  hoofs  and  the  snarling  cries  of  the  men  to  their  panting 
beasts  had  rendered  his  words  unintelligible  to  the  two  in  am- 
bush. 

She  must  have  traversed  that  particularly  patch  of  woodland 
before,  as  she  now  exhibited  a  complete  familiarity  with  it,  not- 
withstanding the  dense  gloom. 

Leading  her  horse,  whose  carefully  muffled  hoofs  made  no  sound 
save  a  slight  crunch  on  the  marly  soil  and  an  occasional  swish,  as 
his  hocks  turned  aside  a  lithe  sprig,  she  moved  along  the  course  of 
the  road,  though  not  in  it,  toward  the  little  branch  that  made  in 
there  from  the  sharp  bend  of  the  Potomac. 

We  have  seen  that  this  girl  must  be  a  spy,  and,  being  such,  she 
knew  that  Stuart  and  the  artillery  had  not  reached  the  position  in- 
tended for  them  near  the  higher  branch  and  on  the  same  sunken 
road  she  now  followed. 

The  girl,  at  the  moment  the  reader  first  saw  her,  was  making  the 
effort  to  return  to  the  Federal  lines,  having  accomplished  all  that 
could  have  been  expected  of  her  before  the  opening  of  the  fierce 
battle  which  was  to  come. 

Many  miles  had  she  to  go  over  before  the  necessary  detour  could 
be  made;  for,  unlike  the  man  whom  she  had  met  in  the  woods, 
who,  in  male  attire,  and  bolder  and  stronger  than  she,  could  pass 
dangers  that  would  haye  been  impossible  for  her  to  surmount,  she 
was  wise  to  seek  avoidance  of  any  exposure  that  might  result  in 
her  capture. 

She  knew,  too,  by  the  fact  of  the  recent  hot  pursuit,  that  she  was 
fully  suspected  as  a  spy,  and  to  be  caught  meant  death  to  her,  girl 
though  she  was. 

When  she  reached  the  thinner  portion  of  the  wood,  she  paused. 
All  was  still,  save  the  distant  sounds  of  murmur  and  rumbling  that 
told  of  the  Confederate  army  moving  through  the  darkness  to 
stretch  its  wings  in  readiness  for  the  morrow— all  still  save  the  oc- 
casiDnal  note  of  some  huge  night  bird  that  soared  away  from  the 
havoc  its  keen  scent  detected  in  the  approaching  dawn. 

"I  think  I  will  venture   it,"    she    muttered,   straining  her  eyes 


og  OLD   FT^SEE. 

searchingly  arouud.  "  A  dash  through  the  hills,  with  the  animal's 
feet  muffled  may  not  be  observed,  and  ouce  over  the  upper  branch 
I  shall  be  comparatively  safe.    Yes,  I  think  I  will  venture  it." 

Throwing  the  bridle  over  the  head  of  the  beast,  she  sprang  into 
the  saddle  with  the  agility  of  an  experienced  trooper. 

"Now,  then,  come,  my  good  fellow,  you  and  I  are  strangers,  but 
I  have  seen  your  mettle.  So,  away  we  go— away  for  McClellan  and 
freedom !" 

But,  though  the  pause  and  the  searching  gaze  into  her  surround- 
ing had  satisfied  her  that  there  was  no  one  near,  she  had  men  to 
deal  with  in  the  rangers  of  Captain  Sorrel,  who  were  born  and 
bred  in  that  mountainous  region,  and  whose  cunning  at  woodcraft 
was  of  no  mean  order. 

She  did  not  see  the  spectral  figure  of  a  horseman,  scarcely  ten 
feet  ahead,  motionless  in  an  admirably  screening  shadow,  and  this 
horseman  had  discerned  her  approach  at  the  moment  she  emerged 
in  the  thinner  portion  of  the  woods. 

Immovable  he  sat  in  his  saddle,  though  he  could  scarcely  sup- 
press a  cry  of  triumph  as  he  comprehended  that  the  skulker  ad- 
vancing could  be  no  other  than  the  female  spy  they  were  after. 

It  was  the  last  man  of  the  cordon  stretched  out  by  Captain  Sor- 
rel. Had  she  pursued  her  stealthy  course  but  a  few  rods  further 
she  must  have  eluded  his  vigilant  eyes. 

The  bridle  was  tightened  in  her  grasp,  her  dainty  boot  had 
touched  the  side  of  her  horse  as  she  uttered  the  onward  word,  and 
the  animal  had  taken  a  quick  leap  forward,  when  she  was  halted 
in  a  manner  to  startle  even  a  braver  girl  than  she. 

A  loud,  a  triumphant  guffaw  broke  the  stillness  of  the  surround- 
ing, and  out  of  the  gloom  into  the  tangled  path  rode  a  man  on  a 
colossal  beast. 

"  Halt,  there,  or  1*11  drop  you  with  a  bullet!"  challenged  a  deep, 
corrse  voice. 

Following  the  command,  the  man  drew  and  fired  a  revolver  in 
the  air,  the  signal  agreed  upon  between  Captain  Sorrel  and  his 
men  to  indicate  the  discovery  of  the  girl  if  she  was  discovered. 
Promptly  was  this  signal  answered  by  a  hail  from  the  next  ranger 
below;  and  then  another  hail. 

The  unfortunate  girl  knew  that  she  was  in  the  toils. 

But  no  child  was  she. 

Instantly  she  drew  from  her  bosom  a  revolver,  and  quite  unex- 
pectedly to  the  exulting  ranger  there  was  a  lond  bang,  a  flash  of 
flame  and  a  bullet  cut  through  his  arm,  wringing  from  his  ruffian 
lips  a  yell  of  pain  and  anger. 
"  Ho,  you  cat  of  the  hills  !  you've  shot  me !" 

No  time  was  given  him  to  utter  more. 

The  resolute  girl  was  upon  him  with  weapon  leveled  for  an- 
other shot,  and  hard  dug  her  heel  into  the  flank  of  her  horse,  as 
she  bo.dly  charged  the  man  who  sought  her  capture. 


OLD  FUSEE.  29 

Though  wounded,  the  man  did  not  flinch. 

Together  carae  the  horses  of  the  two  with  a  grinding  shock. 

The  revolver  cracked  again,  but  its  explosion  this  time  was  due 
to  the  collision,  and  the  bullet  whistled  harmlessly  past  his  head. 

"  Oh,  you  are  a  cat  with  sharp  claws,  too  !'  he  blurted,  leaning 
dextrously  forward  and  grapiug  the  wrist  that  was  raising  for 
still  another  shot,  while  with  his  other  hand  he  laid  hold  upon  the 
girl's  bridle  by  the  bit.  • 

"  But  1  think  you  are  caught  at  last,  my  gay  and  pretty  spy  ! 
Hold,  now,  no  more  bullets,  I  reckon,  from  that  barker  of  yours!" 
and  by  a  fierce  wrench  he  deprived  her  of  the  weapon,  flinging  it 
to  the  ground. 

Not  yet  had  he  secured  the  girl,  who  seemed  inured  to  danger 
and  ready  with  expedient. 

As  she  struggled  in  the  saddle,  under  the  grip  which  was  rudely 
fastened  upon  her,  she  heard  the  galloping  approach  of  the  ran- 
ger's comrades. 

In  a  few  seconds  she  would  be  a  prisoner. 

Freeing  her  arm  from  his  painful  hold,  she  snatched  from  her 
bosom  a  singular  contrivance  of  tin  about  two  inches  long  and  of  a 
double  flatness.    This  she  inserted  in  her  mouth. 

The  ruffian  regained  his  clasp  on  the  girl's  arm,  but  as  he  did  so 
something  transpired  to  bring  a  howl  of  agony  from  him. 

Bending  close,  while  she  continued  her  brave  struggle,  he  felt  a 
strong  blown  breath  in  his  face,  and  simultaneously  it  seemed  to 
him  as  if  all  the  fires  of  the  lower  regions  had  been  puffed  at  once 
into  his  defenceless  eyes. 

A  hot,  penetrating,  terrible  power  had  been  injected  into  his 
wide  orbs  with  the  breath,  causing  him  to  release  her,  clap  both 
hands  to  his  face,  and  roar  forth  a  wild  oath. 

''My  soul!  Oh,  my  eyes!  lam  blind.  You  cat;  you  have  put 
out  my  eyes !" 

Freed  from  his  hold,  she  urged  on  her  horse,  for  there  was  not  a 
moment  to  lose. 

Nor  had  she,  until  she  cried  to  the  rearing  animal,  uttered  a 
word  during  the  struggle  which  she  felt  was  for  her  very  life. 

But  too  long  had  thai  encounter  lasted. 

On  came  the  rangers  swiftly. 

Hearing  them,  the  blinded  man  bellowed  : 

•'  Here,  here,  comrades !  This  way.  I  have  her,  and  she  has  me, 
forsooth.  I  am  blind.  1  can't  see.  She  has  put  out  my  eyes. 
Catch  her !  Kill  her !  Shoot  the  accursed  spy !    Oh,  my  eyes !" 

Ere  the  darmg  girl  could  extricate  herself  from  the  bushes  that 
tangled  round  her  horse's  feet,  she  was  surrounded  by  the  rangers. 

The  voice  of  Captain  Sorrell  broke  forth  jubilantly : 

'  Soho,  we  have  you,  eh  my  pretty !  Surrender,  surrender,  I 
say,  or  we'll  have  to  lay  you  out  with  bullets." 

The  girl  saw  that  it  would  be  useless  to  resist  now.    To  defy  the 


30  OLD  FUSEE. 

fate  which  eucompassed  her  might  only  result  in  her  speedy  death, 
for  well  she  knew  the  reckless  venom  of  those  who  were  figuring 
as  rangers  and  free  riders  in  the  Confederate  host. 

"I  surrender,"  she  replied,  simply.  "  What  do  you  wish  me  to 
do?" 

"  Dismount !     Get  off  that  horse,"  ordered  Sorrel. 

She  obeyed. 

"  Have  you  any  weapons  ?"  he  demanded,  having  heard  enough 
shots  to  convince  him  that  she  must  be  armed. 

"  No," 

"You  were  armed?" 

"  I  lost  my  weapon  in  the  fight  with  this  wretch " 

"  Wretch,  you  call  me,"  whiningly  snarled  the  fellow,  who,  hav- 
ing dropped  from  his  horse,  was  stamping  about  and  blubbering 
dolefully  while  he  rubbed  his  inflamed  and  burning  eyes,  only  to 
increase  their  agony.  "Wretch  you  call  me!  By  my  soul!  if  I 
could  see,  and  if  I  had  my  revolver,  I  would  blow  your  wildcat 
brains  out!     Oh,  my  eyes!" 

Sorrel  leaped  to  the  ground  and  advanced  toward  his  captive. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

BULLETS   OF  RESCUE. 

Raising  his  broad,  sombrero-like  hat  in  a  bow  that  savored  of 
mockery,  the  ranger  captain  said : 

"  Well,  Miss  Belle,  you  have  led  us  a  hard  chase." 

"  How  do  you  know  that  my  name  is  Belle  ?" 

"How?"  surprisedly.  "Oh,  come,  you  are  in  a  good  humor  if 
you  are  a  prisoner.  True,  I  have  never  had  the  pleasure  of  your 
actual  acquaintance,  but  then  everybody  well  knows  the  dashing 
Miss  Belle  Bartholemew." 

"  My  name  is  not  Belle  Bartholemew." 

The  man  with  the  burning  and  blinding  eyes,  for  whose  relief 
his  comrades  were  exerting  at  the  moment,  broke  in  here  with  a 
snort  and  an  oath. 

"  Belle  Bartholemew,  or  Belle  Anybodyelse,"  he  half  roared. 
"  Put  a  bullet  through  the  she-cat  spy !  My  eyes  are  out !  She  has 
blinded  me  for  life." 

"  Silence,  there!"  commanded  Sorrel. 

He  struck  a  match  and  held  it  near  the  face  of  his  prisoner. 

The  survey  he  took  of  her  seemed  to  settle  her  Identity  in  his 
mind. 

"As  I  said,  I  do  not  know  you  as  an  acquaintance,  my  bold  spy 
rider  in  petticoats,  but  I  have  seen  you  before  now,  and  I  know 
you  to  be  Belle  Bartholomew." 

"  And  I  tell  you  that  you  are  entirely  wrong.  My  name  is  Belle 
Fusor." 


OLD   FUSEE.  31 

"  No  matter.    Come,  now,  will  you  be  a  quiet  captive?  or  shall 
we  have  to  bind  those  pretty  arms  of  yours?"' 
"No  need  to  bind  me,  sir;  I  will  go  with  you." 
"Good,  then." 
"  Where  will  you  take  me  ?" 

"  First  back  to  your  home " 

The  girl  interrupted  with  a  laugh. 
"  What  are  you  laughing  at  ?" 
"  To  my  home  you  say  ?" 
"  Yes." 

"Then  you  will  have  a  long  ride.    For  my  home  is  in  Eastern 
Pennsylvania." 
"  You  can't  hoodwink  rae.    Come,  mount  your  horse  again  ;    I'll 

help  you  up " 

The  girl  disregarded  his  stlrruping  hand  extended,  and  with  an 
exhibition  that  showed  she  possessed  muscle  as  well  as  beauty,  and 
which  caused  the  glances  of  the  rangers  to  rest  upon  her  with  ad- 
miration, she  reached  her  seat  in  the  saddle  at  a  single  spring. 

Ever   alert   for  danger  in  her  capacity  as  a  spy,  long  practice 
had    acquired    the  habit  of  hasty  mounting  with  an  astonishing 
ease. 
"Lead  on,  sir,"  she  said,  coolly. 
"  Mount!"  ordered  Sorrel  to  his  men, 

"  What !"  came  snarling  and  angry  from  the  man  with  the  blind- 
ed eyes;  "  you  are  not  going  to  kill  her?" 

"Lead  that  fellow  to  his  horse,  and  lead  his  horse,  too,  if  he  is 
blind,  as  he  says  he  is,"  Sorrel  instructed  the  ranger  nearest  to  his 
side. 

The  little  cavalcade  was  about  to  move  forward  when  there  hap- 
pened a  strange  interruption. 
Suddenly  out  of  the  thicket  before  them  flashed  a  succession  of 

flames  and 

Bang— bang!  came  shots  from  what  seemed  to  be  a  half  dozen 
revolvers. 
The  bullets  did  not  all  whistle  harmlessly  by  the  rangers. 
Two  saddles  were  emptied,  and  the  horses,  startled  by  the  unex- 
pected  fusilade,  uttered   frightened   snorts,  pitching   backward, 
then  forward,  then  plunged^away  at  a  gallop. 
Bang— bang !  again  the  shots. 
The  rangers  were  thrown  into  a  complete  panic. 
It  was  the   second  time   they  had  been  met  by  an  ambush;  a 
second  time  they  had  seen  comrades  go  down  before  the  fire  of  a 
foe  that  was  invisible. 

"  Steady!"  hollowed  Captain  Sorrel,  his  hand  hard  on  the  bridle 
of  his  horse   as  it   reared   among  the  other   crowding   animals. 

"  Stand  !    Charge  those  bushes  ahead !    Rout  out  this " 

His  commands  were  utterly  unheeded.  No  cowards  were  the 
rough  rangers ;  but  it  was  no  pleasant  predicament  to  find   them- 


32  OLD   FUSEE. 

selves  being  shot  down  thus  without  a    chance  to  retaliate  upon 
their  foe 

For  a  few  seconds  there  was  a  confusion  of  men  and  horses,  and 
then  one  and  all  dashed  away  from  the  edge  of  the  woods,  while 
the  revolver,  or  revolvers,  they  paused  not  to  consider  which,  con- 
tinued to  bang— bang!  in  their  rear. 

The  girl  found  herself  deserted  by  those  who  a  moment  before 
were  her  stern  captors. 

Almost  at  her  feet  lay  the  two  men  who  had  fallen  from  their 
saddles,  apparently  dead. 

When  the  receding  sound  of  the  flying  rangers  told  that  their 
departure  was  assured,  she  was  not  surprised  to  hear  a  voice  ad- 
dressing her  from  the  gloom  ahead. 

"  Come  forward,  miss;  you  have  nothing  to  fear  now." 

It  was  a  rich,  manly  voice  that  would  have  inspired  confidence 
under  any  circumstances. 

Without  any  hesitation  she  obeyed  the  request. 

A  man  stepped  out  in  front  of  her. 

"  Gavo  them  quite  a  scare,  didn't  I  ?"  he  said,  cheerily. 

"You?" 

"Yes.  But  I  am  afraid  it  has  left  me  an  unarmed  man,  for  I 
have  no  extra  cartridges  with  me,  and  my  revolvers  are  empty  to 
a  shot.    But  who  are  you,  miss  ?" 

"  As  you  see,  a  young  girl  who  was  in  a  very  tight  place,"  she 
answered,  warily. 

"  And  as  those  fellows  were  Johnnies,  I  take  it  that  you  are  a 
Union  girl — and  a  brave  one  at  that,  from  what  I  was  in  time  to 
witness.  Have  no  fear  of  me,  miss;  I  am  a  Federal  soldier— Major 
Frank  Carlton,  at  your  service." 

She  could  see,  even  in  the  uncertain  shadows,  that  he  wore  a  suit 
of  gray — not  a  military  suit,  but  more  like  the  garb  of  a  young 
farmer. 

"Why  did  you  rescue  me  from  those  men  who  wear  the  same 
colors  as  yourself?" 

'* Oh,  you  mean  the  gray  ?  Ha,  ha,  ha!  you  must  not  judge  by 
looks.  I  told  you  I  was  a  Federal  soldier — and  so  I  am.  Major 
Frank  Carlton,  of  the  Pennsylvania  Reserves,  with  Hooker's  corps. 
Pray,  tell  me  who  I  have  had  the  honor  of  rescuing  from  that  band 
of  Confederates  ?    Or,  better,  with  your  permission,  I  will  look." 

He  drew  a  patent  fuse  from  his  pocket  and  presently  held  its 
smoky  light  near  enough  to  scrutinize  her  features. 

As  he  did  so,  an  exclamation  of  supremest  astonishment  burst 
from  him,  and  he  snapped  the  fuse  shut  suddenly. 

"Belle!    You  here— and  in  such  danger!" 

"  Yes,  my  name  is  Belle.    But  how  do  you  know  me  ?" 

"  How  do  I  know  you,"  he  repeated,  in  the  tone  of  one  overcome 
by  a  redoubled  amazement  at  such  an  inquiry.  "  Ah,  I  thought  I 
knew  your  voice,  but  was  not  sure.    My  dear,   darling  Belle,  for 


OLD  FUSEE,  3.3 

Heaven's  sake  explain  how  you  came  to  be  in  such  a  plight,  when  I 
thought  you  safe  at  home  ?" 

"Stop,  sir,  please,"  she  interrupted.  "There  is  some  mistake. 
My  name  is  Belle;  but  I  am  not  the  Belle  you  take  me  to  be,  evi- 
dently.   I  never  met  you  before." 

"  Belle  I  this  from  you  ?  And  only  last  night,  when  we  met  again, 
after  a  separation  of  years,  you  told  me  you  had  been  true  to  our 
lovers'  vows  in  the  past,  and  that  you  would  be  mine  in  the  future 
forever,  if  I  survived  the  war?  What  do  you  mean  by  this  ?  £Have 
you  changed  in  so  short  a  time  as  a  few  hours?" 

"Major  Carlton,  those  rangers  from  whom  you  rescued  me 
believed  me  to  be  a  young  lady  named  Belle  ^Bartholomew.  Do 
you  too,  think  that  I  am  she?" 

Again,  and  hastily,  the  major  lighted  his  fuse,  taking  a  second 
glance  at  a  face  which  the  tiny  spark  revealed  to  be  very  beautiful. 

Then  he  drew  back  and  uttered,  half  regretfully : 

"  I  see— I  am  mistaken,  but  the  likeness  is  truly  wonderful  and 
would  deceive  most  anyone  but  me.  Yet  you  say  your  name  is 
Belle?" 

"  Yes,  Belle  Fusor.    "Who  is  Belle  Bartholomew  ?" 

"  My  promised  bride,  if  I  survive  this  struggle  between  the  states. 
Her  home  is  a  large  stone  house  on  the  Shepherdstown  road.  I 
risked  my  life  to  see  her,  when  the  army  of  McClellan  marched 
into  this  locality,  and  thank  Heaven !  1  found  a  true  heart  ready 
to  renew  the  vows  I  had  feared  were  broken  long  ago,  never  to  be 
revived." 

Within  her  silent  mind  the  girl  was  musing  : 

"  The  stone  house  on  the  Shepherdstown  road.  That  is  the  house 
Old  Fv.see  said  I  must  seek  before  returning  to  the  Federal  lines, 
and  find  means  to  convey  a  certain  note  to  the  master  of  the  dwell- 
ing, which  I  did  by  bribing  a  negro  girl.  Then  it  is  the  home  of 
Belle  Bartholomew,  this  young  lady  whom  I  so  greatly  resemble? 
And  no  doubt  it  was  she  who,  when  I  appealed  to  her  to  aid  in  my 
escape  from  the  pursuing  rangers,  gave  me  her  own  horse  cheer- 
fully and  bade  me  fly.  A  noble,  generous  girl;  and  I  am  proud  to 
be  mistaken  for  such  a  one  I " 

At  that  juncture  the  major  rested  his  hand  wuruiugly  upon  her 
arm. 


CHAPTER  X. 

STRIKER  MAKES  A   CAPTURE. 

This  action  of  the  girl's  rescuer  was  caused  by  a  significant  sound 
which  both  heard  distinctly,  and  near. 

The  snapping  of  a  twig,  accompanied  by  a  noise  like  the  shuffle 
of  a  foot  amid  the  brush  in  a  slip. 

"  There  is  still  some  one  in  the  woods  near  us,"  he  whispered,  to 
his  companion. 
o 


34  OLD   FUSfil!. 

"  Oue,  or  more,  of  the  rangers  from  whom  I  have  been  deliv- 
ered," she  suggested,  in  an  equally  guarded  accent. 

"No  ;  I  hardly  think  so." 

For  many  minutes  they  remained  silent  and  motionless,  listen- 
ing, but  there  was  no  repetition  of  the  suspicious  sound. 

"You  heard  it?"  he  queried. 

"Yes." 

"But perhaps  we  are  needlessly  alarmed.  It  may  have  been 
some  small  game  prowling  through  the  night.  At  any  rate,  let  us 
take  the  chances.    Where  do  you  wish  to  go  ?" 

"  I  seek  the  Federal  lines." 

"And  so  do  I.    Suppose  we  move  on?" 

The  next  minute  he  said,  as  he  walked  along  by  the  side  of  her 
horse: 

"  Ah,  you  have  your  animal  blanket  shod?" 

"Yes." 

But  the  girl  was  not  one  to  betray,  even  to  this  man  who  pro- 
claimed himself  to  be  a  Union  ofiBcer,  the  hazardous  business 
which  brought  her  into  that  vicinity. 

It  was  a  good  fortune,  however,  which  had  thus  thrown  her  iuto 
the  company  of  one  whom  we  now  know  was  the  afiBanced  hus- 
band of  lovely  Belle  Bartholemew. 

The  Federal  soldier  lover  of  the  fair  Southern  secessionist! 

Rather  a  remarkable  fact,  considering  that  the  female  portion  of 
the  Sunny  South  were  even  more  bitter  in  their  hatred  for  the  sol- 
diers of  the  North  than  were  the  fighting  sex  who  made  up  the 
formidable  army  of  gray. 

They  followed  the  west  side  of  the  sunken  road,  winding  cau- 
tiously amid  tlie  timber  that  became  less  dense  as  it  stretched 
northward;  and  it  seemed  that  nothing  was  to  molest  them  on 
the  stealthy  journey  of  detour,  meant  to  bring  them  eventually 
into  the  Union  lines. 

But  fate  was  not  yet  done  with  the  bold  spy  who  had  given  her 
name  as  Belle  Fusor. 

By  sound  more  than  by  sight,  they  were  apprised  of  the  ap- 
proach on  their  right  of  lumbering  artillery  and  cavalry,  which, 
she  informed  him,  must  be  Stuart,  judging  by  certain  information 
she  had  gathered  during  the  day. 

Therefore,  they  diverged  further  to  the  left,  away  from  the  ad- 
vancing body  they  could  not  see. 

"  I  strongly  suspect  that  you  have  been  playing  the  perilous  part 
of  a  spy  within  the  Confederate  lines,"  he  said. 

"  Why  do  you  think  so?" 

"You  seem  to  be  posted  in  regard  to  their  movements." 

If  she  had  contemplated  any  reply  to  this  remark,  it  was  pre- 
vented by  an  occurrence  just  then  of  a  startling  nature. 

Without  warning,  like  a  gliding  specter,  a  man  of  discernibly 
bulky  form  stepped  out  of  the  shadows  in  front  of  them,  and  even 


OLD  FUSEE.  35 

iu  the  semi-darkness  they  could  see  the  g'eam  of  a  pair  of  revolv- 
ers which,  extended  in  both  hands,  he  held  completely   covering 
them. 
And,  simultaneously,  the  voice  of  Captain  Jack  Striker,  harshly: 
"  Halt,  you  infernal  Yankee  spies,  both  of  you !" 
Major  Carlton  had,  as  he  said,  entirely  emptied  his  revolvers  in 
his  bold  deed  of  rescuing  the  girl  from  the  rangers. 

Her  weapon,  we  have  seen,  was  lost  in  her  struggle  with  the  first 
ranger  who  disputed  her  progress  when  striving  to  escape  from 
the  cordon  of  Captain  Sorrel 

Both  unarmed,  and  though  but  a  single  man  confronted  them, 
what  was  to  be  done,  with  those  gleaming,  deadly  barrels  leveled 
upon  them,  and  behind  the  barrels  a  rabid  gray  coat  who,  perhaps, 
would  really  rather  kill  than  capture. 

"  Hoi'  on  !  Hoi'  your  fire,  mister  man  !"  responded  Carlton,  with- 
out a  second's  hesitation,  and  in  a  voice  so  completely  unlike  his 
natural  manner  of  speech  that  the  girl  was  hugely  surprised;  and 
he  hurriedly  said  to  her,  so  low  that  the  party  in  front  could  not 
possibly  have  heard:  "  Make  a  dash  for  it,  miss.  You  are  mount- 
ed and  may  escape.  He  may  not  be  able  to  hit  you  in  the  dark- 
ness; at  any  rate,  liberty  is  worth  trying  for." 

"I  will  do  ^o,  but  I  will  not  desert  you,"  were  the  brave  words 
she  whispered  back. 

"  Come,  do  you  surrender?  or  shall  I  open  fire?    Hello,  there! 
hait!  halt!  I  say!     Curse  you!" 
For  the  girl  at  that  instant  performed  an  astonishing  feat. 
By  a  quick  and  steady  pull  she  swerved    her  horse  half  around 
and  struck  hard  with  her  heel  in  his  flank. 

Wish  a  snort  the  animal  took  a  leap,  a  leap  that  saved  its  rider 
from  the  bullet  that  came  promptly  whistling  after  her,  and  in  a 
second,  horse  and  rider  had  vanished. 

The  desperate  plunge  was  over  an  embankment  that  rose  by  the 
sunken  road  at  that  point. 

Over  and  down  she  went  fearlessly  through  a  mass  of  gnarly 
briers  heedless  of  what  lay  beyond,  thoughtless  of  the  lacerations 
of  the  scrub  growth  around  her. 

And  the  horse  proved  himself  well  trained  to  hazardous  leaps, 
for  he  alighted  fairly  on  his  feet,  and  plunged  on  in  response  to 
the  urgings  of  his  fair  and  magnificent  rider,  his  blanket-shod 
hoofs  making  but  little  noise  even  over  the  pebbles  that  lay  sharp 
and  thick  in  the  bed  of  the  road. 

Carlton  stood  transfixed,  gazing  at  the  spot  where  she  had  dis- 
appeared, and  his  soul  was  filled  with  admiration. 

"I've  got  you  safe  enough,  anyhow  !"  ground  an  unpleasant 
voice  in  his  ears,  as  a  heavy  hand  griped  down  on  his  shoulder. 

*'  Say,  mister  man,  don't  you  go  for  to  hurt  me  that  there  way. 
Well,  I  swow  to 'scats,  if  you  ain't 'most  skeered  my  sister  outen 
her  seven  wits !" 


36  OLD   FUSEE. 

"  Who  was  that  girl?"  ' 

"Why,  she  war  my  sister." 

"Who  are  you?"  sharply. 

"Me?  Why,  I'm  been  a  grubbin'  over  in  the  hills  yender for 
some  folks.  I  come  from  Shepherdstown,  that's  whar  I  belong  at, 
an'  that's  whar  I'm  makin'  for;  cause  I  'lowed  there'd  soon  be 
canyun  balls  enough  over  whar  I  was  workin'  at  the  plow  an' 
grub  all  'at  was  wanted.    Say,  you're  a  ossifer,  ain't  you,  now?" 

The  tall  form  of  Captain  Striker  bent  forward  that  he  might 
peer  closer  into  the  face  of  the  speaker. 

The  manner  and  speech  were  those  of  a  young  farmer,  truly,  and 
the  suit  of  homespun  gray  was  very  deceptive. 

But  it  would  appear  as  if  fate  was  dead  against  the  Federal 
major  in  his  masquerade,  for  the  Confederate  captain  made  a  dis- 
covery. 

The  suit  of  gray  was  merely  drawn  over  the  regimental  garb  of 
blue — carefully  to  perfection,  Carlton  thought;  and  as  Striker 
searched  the  face  and  then  scanned  the  dress  of  the  man,  he  de- 
tected that  there  was  another  suit  beneath. 

At  one  strong  grip  and  pull  he  tore  away  the  coat  at  the  collar, 
and,  lo  !  blue  coat  and  brass  buttons  were  revealed. 

"  Ha!  I  suspected  as  much " 

He  had  no  time  to  utter  more  than  this. 

Slug!  came  the  fist  of  Carlton  in  his  face,  and  the  blood  spurted 
from  his  nose  in  a  stream. 

"  Curse  you,  you  Yankee  dog  !" 

"  A  Yankee,  but  no  dog  !"  retorted  the  Unionist. 

Then  there  was  the  combined  breath  of  two  men  coming  to- 
gether in  the  clinch  of  a  deadly  struggle  for  the  mastery. 

The  blow  had  jarred  both  pistols  from  Striker's  hands;  and  had 
he  not  been  so  very  large  and  heavy,  and  had  not  the  darkness  ren- 
dered the  blow  a  little  uncertain,  Carlton  would  have  surely 
downed  him  by  that  unexpected  stroke  of  his  fist. 

Fiercely  they  fought. 

As  they  fought,  Carlton  realized  that  the  Confederate  must  be 
alone,  else  there  would  have  come  assistance  to  him  now. 

Backward  and  forward  they  swayed,  squirmed,  twisted  ;  round 
and  about  they  tore  the  sod  with  their  crunching  heels. 

But  the  powerful  captain  was  more  than  a  match  for  his  young 
adversary. 

Twice,  thrice  he  freed  one  muscular  arm,  and  with  the  fist  of  the 
arm  he  rained  blows  upon  the  Unionist's  head,  until  at  last  Carlton 
felt  his  senses  reeling. 

Still,  manfully,  he  fought. 

Still,  at  intervals,  fell  the  terrible  blows  that  were  gradually  de- 
priving him  of  strength  and  consciousness. 

"You  infernal  Yankee!"  panted  Striker,  seeing  that  he  would 
soon  conquer,  "I  will  soon  have  you  a  prisoner.    Then  look  out! 


OLD   FUSEE.  37 

We've  a  platoon  of  guus  to  riddle  the  bodies  of   all  such  spies  as 

you!    Now  then "  and  with   the  sentence  uncompleted,  again 

he  found  opportunity  to  deal  those  terrific  blows  that  were  over- 
coming his  gamey  antagonist. 

Suddenly,  Carlton,  blinded  with  his  own  blood,  ceased  his  stub- 
born resistance,  and  sunk  with  a  groan  helpless  at  the  feet  of  hard- 
breathing  Captain  Striker. 

"Soho'  I  have  pounded  him  to  a  jelly,  have  I?  Good.  But  I 
hope  I  have  not  killed  him." 

With  a  singular  anxiety  under  the  circumstances  he  knelt 
to  examine  the  unconscious  form  of  his  enemy  for  some  signs  of 
life. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

A    GIBL  OF  HER  WORD. 

Captain  Striker  had  not  gone  away  from  the  dwelling  of  James 
Bartholeraew  when  we  saw  him  turn  from  that  gentleman,  after 
seeing  the  rangers  of  Sorrel  start  in  hot  pursuit  of  the  fleeing  girl. 

He  suddenly  conceived  the  notion  that  he  would  like  to  take 
part  in  the  chase. 

Wheeling  short  around  again,  he  walked  hurriedly  to  the  stable, 
where  were  the  few  negroes  who  still  clung  to  the  home  of  "oV 
Massa  James,"  and  boldly  stalked  inside,  selecting  one  of  the 
horses  that  Bartholemew  managed  to  keep,  notwithstanding  the 
drain  that  had  been  made  on  his  stock,  especially  after  Lee  crossed 
the  line  into  Maryland. 

The  very  asEurance  of  his  act  saved  him  from  the  delay  of  in- 
quiry or  protest;  and,  too,  the  negroes  had  an  abundance  of  fear 
for  all  who  wore  the  gray. 

Mounting  with  all  possible  haste,  he  set  out  at  a  brisk  canter 
after  the  rangers. 

Having  but  an  indistinct  idea  of  their  exact  course,  he  did 
not  keep  straight  to  their  trail,  and  reached  the  woods  at  the 
sunken  road  some  distance  below  the  last  man  sent  on  sentry  duty 
to  the  east  of  the  road  by  Sorrel. 

He  soon  saw  the  rangers,  and  he  soon  understood  that  they  were 
surrounding  the  spot  with  every  indication  that  the  quarry  was 
concealed  there. 

"  I  shall  try  and  capture  this  flyaway  girl  myself,"  he  resolved, 
entering  the  shadows  of  the  trees  below  the  cordon  of  rangers.  "  I 
would  like  to  have  another  talk  with  the  defiant  piece  before  I  let 
her  fall  completely  into  the  hands  of  those  who  are  after  her  as  a 
Yankee  spy.  Bah  !  there  is  no  sense  in  some  of  these  girls.  She 
must  be  made  to  realize  that  her  very  life  is  in  the  hollow  of  my 
hand." 

As  careful  to  conceal  his  presence  from  the  mounted  men  as  was 
the  girl  herself,  he  stole  forward  through  the  dense  place  toward 


38  OLD   FUSEE. 

the  point  which  seemed  to  be  the  principal  point  of  interest  to 
the  watchers. 

The  pistol  shots  he  had  heard  ;  and  he  mumbled  under  his  enor- 
mous mustache,  as  he  cautiously  advanced : 

"I  think  it  will  be  wise  to  be  guarded.  I  heard  shots.  I  heard 
also  a  scream  very  like  the  scream  of  a  wounded  man.  'Sflames  ! 
the  girl  may  be  quick  and  dangerous  one  with  that  pistol  she 
shoved  into  my  face  when  1  stood  in  her  way  in  the  parlor." 

A  short  distance  further,  and  he  knew  that  he  must  be  at  about 
the  spot  where  the  rangers  had  entered  and  been  driven  out. 

This  confirmed  presently  by  his  half  stumbling  over  a  prone  and 
limp  form  on  the  ground. 

One  of  the  rangers  who  had  fallen  under  the  fire  of  the  girl  and 
the  man  she  had  met  there. 

It  was  a  dead  form,  though  still  warm. 

Close  to  this,  another. 

Neither  Sorrel  nor  his  men  had  paused  to  think  of  removing 
their  fallen  comrades  when  they  retreated  so  precipitately  from 
the  hot  and  unexpected  reception  which  had  greeted  them. 

And  the  captain  made  another  discovery. 

At  the  moment  he  came  stealthily  upon  this  half  path,  half  tan- 
gle in  the  undergrowth,  he  was  aware  of  some  one  moving  skulk- 
ingly  away  by  an  opposite  course  than  that  by  which  he  had  ap- 
proached. 

"  The  girl,"  he  ventured  to  guess,  in  an  audible  mutter. 

In  this  surmise  he  was  right.  And  carefully  as  she  moved,  and 
though  the  hoofs  of  the  horse  were  muffled.  Captain  Striker  was 
able  to  follow,  by  the  faint  and  at  times  wholly  imperceptible 
sounds,  the  movements  of  the  person  ahead  of  him. 

His  horse  he  had  made  fast  to  a  sapling  upon  first  entering  the 
timber.  Now  he  worked  his  way  forward,  pausing  anon  to  make 
sure  that  he  was  not  thrown  off  the  scent. 

With  all  his  care,  he  lost  the  trail. 

It  was  the  revolver  shot  of  the  girl,  when  she  made  that  dash  for 
liberty  at  the  time  of  being  confronted  by  the  hidden  ranger;  that 
guided  him  again  to  the  course  he  should  have  taken;  but  he  had 
wandered  considerably  astray,  and  by  the  time  he  reached  the 
scene  of  the  encounter,  the  fusilade  of  the  gallant  rescuer,  Carlton, 
had  transpired,  the  rangers  were  in  retreat,  and  he  barely  caught 
a  glimpse  of  the  female  rider  and  the  man  at  her  side,  as  the  two 
made  slowly  off  through  the  now  thinning  trees. 

"Only  one  man,"  he  muttered.  "I  think  I  can  capture  her. 
'Sflames !  I  am  not  afraid  of  one  man.  Let  me  get  ahead  of  them, 
and  let  me  get  the  drop  on  them,  and  I  have  no  doubt  I  shall  be 
able  to  bring  them  to  terms." 

With  this  view,  he  started  rapidly,  though  silently,  by  a  round- 
about path  well  known  to  him  in  that  place,  and  ere  long  he  had 


OLD   FUSEE.  39 

brought  about  the  stoppage  and  subsequent  combat  with  Carlton 
which  we  have  related. 

"  I  hope  I  have  not  killed  him,"  he  repeated,  as  he  knelt  by  the 
Union  major's  side  and  placed  one  of  his  broad  palms  over  the 
fallen  man's  heart.  "  I  prefer  to  take  him  alive,  a  prisoner.  Ho! 
but  I  will  take  him  first  to  the  house  of  old  James  Bartholemew, 
and  I  will  say  to  him:  'Behold!  here  is  the  fellow  with  whom 
your  ward,  the  dashing  Miss  Belle,  is  leagued,  to  give  information 
to  the  infernal  Yankees.  Yes,  I  will  do  that  first ;  and  after  that  I 
will  take  him  to  headquarters— for  no  doubt  I  shall  find  something 
on  his  person  to  confirm  the  fact  that  he,  as  well  as  she,  is  a  spy. 
'Sflames !  spy  or  not,  I  shall  see  to  it  that  he  never  gets  back  to  his 
detestable  Union  lines  again,  be  sure  of  that.  Now  come,  it  will 
be  no  child's  task  to  carry  the  carrion  back  to  where  I  left  my 
horse." 

But  it  was  his  intention  to  carry  the  major  back  to  the  animal 
and  transport  him  into  a  captivity  that  meant  death  ;  and  with  a 
strained  grunt,  he  first  lifted  the  limp  figure,  then  swung  it  over 
his  shoulder  like  a  sack. 

Alive,  though  as  helpless  as  a  dead  man,  Frank  Carlton  was  be- 
ing borne  to  his  doom. 

No  Federal  could  hope  for  any  mercy  at  the  hands  of  fierce  Cap- 
tain Striker,  with  his  fierce  mustache  and  soul  afire  in  hate  for  any- 
thing or  everybody  who  wore  the  blue. 

So  intent  was  he  with  his  captive  that  he  wholly  forgot  his  brace 
of  pistols— knocked  from  his  grasp,  we  have  said,  by  a  smart  blow 
from  Carlton.  They  were  left  laying  there  in  the  little  open,  their 
rich  mounting  gleaming  dully  amid  the  grass. 

When  starting  to  join  the  pursuit,  he  had  not  stopped  to  remove 
the  halter  from  the  horse — a  patent  rope  halter  that  now  served 
him  admirably. 

For  when  he  reached  the  tethered  animal,  he  removed  the  hal- 
ter, and  with  a  sharp  knife,  proceeded  to  cut  it  apart  until  he  had 
tormed  pieces  sufficient  to  bind  the  young  major's  arms  behind  his 
back  and  his  lower  limbs  at  the  ankles  securely. 

*'  There!"  he  exclaimed,  with  savage  satisfaction.  "  I  think  the 
Yank  is  now  on  a  fair  road  to  his  death — curse  him  !  I  never  knew 
a  knot  of  mine  to  be  broken  by  a  prisoner;  and  I  have  made  many 
on  those  who  would  not  remain  quiet  until  bound.  You  may 
squirm  as  lively  as  you  please  when  you  come  to  life  again— and 
he  will  come  to  life  again,"  as  he  raised  the  prisoner  over  the  sad- 
dle front,  "for  I  felt  his  heart  beat  while  he  lay  on  the  ground. 
Now,  then,  to  show  James  Bartholemew  the  bluecoated  devil 
through  whom  Miss  Belle  is  communicating  with  the  Yankee 
army!" 

Gaining  the  saddle  behind  his  captive,  he  gathered  up  the  reins 
and  urged  the  horse  forward  at  a  brisk  walk. 

The  rangers   had  entirely  left   the  scene   of  their   pursuit  and 


40  OLD  FUSEE. 

defeat.     His  course  back  to  the  house  of  James  Bartholemew  was 
a  lonely  cue. 

Within  a  few  minutes  after  Captain  Striker  had   departed  from 
the  spot  where  he  had  captured    Frank    Carlton,  a    figure  cam« 
noiselessly  from  the  bushes  and  ran  forward. 
It  was  Belle  Fusor. 

True  to  her  word,  she  had  not  deserted  the  gallant  major  who  so 
opportunely  rescued  her  from  the  rangers. 

Not  far  did  she  go  before  checking  her  horse  and  dismounting. 
Searching  about,  she,  fortunately,  was  not  long  in  finding  a  stout 
stick  which  would  make  a  formidable  club. 

With  this  in  hand,  she  climbed  up  the  bank  and  retraced  her 
course  toward  where  she  had  left  her  rescuer  mena'^ed  by  the  re- 
volvers of  their  common  foe. 

The  time  lost  in  searching  for  the  club,  however,  had  sufficed  for 
Striker  to  overcome  and  carry  off  the  major. 

But  the  brave  girl,  as  she  emerged  upon  the  spot,  determined  to 
lend  every  assistance  in  her  power,  caught  sight  of  something  in- 
stantly which  gave  her  hear  t  a  thrill  of  delight. 

There  in  the  grass,  almost  at  her  feet,  were  the  polished  re- 
volvers ! 

Scarcely  able  to  repress  alow  cry  at  the  discovery,  she  grasped 
them  up,  and  at  full  speed  hastened  back  to  her  horse. 

Once  more  armed,  and  intent  upon  standing  bravely  by  the  man 
to  whom  she  owed  her  present  liberty,  she  was  presently  gallop- 
ing in  hot  pursuit  of  the  Confederate  captain ;  and  mu fitted  as 
were  the  hoofs  of  the  horse,  and  soft  as  was  the  sod  she  tra- 
versed, Striker  was  unapprised,  by  sound,  of  any  one  being  on  his 
track. 

CHAPTER  XII. 

X  DOOMED   PRISONER. 

Here  again  fate  seemed  to  be  against  the  young  major. 

At  last  the  captain  heard  the  thud  of  deadened  hoofs  in  his  rear, 
and  though  not  dreaming  that  it  could  be  the  dashing  female  rider 
whom  he  stoutly  believed  to  be  Belle  Bartholomew— who  had 
taken  the  bold  leap  over  the  embankment,  he  turned  slightly  to 
the  left,  toward  Sharpsburg,  intending  to  a\roid  whoever  it  might 
be,  and  reach  the  house  of  Bartholomew  from  the  direction  of  his 
own  regiment,  part  of  wtich  was  then  thrown  across  the  Shep- 
herdstown  road. 

And  because  of  this  prompt  movement,  and  the  silence  with 
which  he  moved  his  horse  at  a  walk,  on  the  soft  soil  at  the  side  of 
the  road,  Belle  Fusor  was  deceived  and  dashed  on  without  discov- 
ering the  ruse. 

As  he  neared  the  dwelling,  Captain  Striker  saw  what  had  not 
been  in  the  vicinity— the  immediate  vicinity— when  he  had  left 
there. 


OLD  rUSEF.  41 

South  of  the  Shepherdetown  road,  and  far  westward,  were  the 
fires  of  the  Confederate  forces  who  were  coming  in,  the  remainder 
of  them  from  Harper's  Ferry. 

Thousands  of  men,  ready  in  arms  were  there,  encompassing  the 
surrounding  of  Bartholomew's  house. 

Within  the  house  of  the  fiery  secessionist  were  a  number  of  ofiB- 
cers  partaking  of  the  old  gentleman's  hospitality. 

"  It  will  hardly  suit  my  plans,"  he  muttered,  biting  his  mustache, 
as  he  paused  without  to  gaze  upon  the  feast  of  wine  and  other  re- 
freshments progressing  within.  "It  will  hardly  suit  ray  pirns  in 
regard  to  this  Yank  and  Miss  Belle,  to  take  my  captive  right  in 
among  them.  I  must  get  the  old  man  to  himself  and  have  him 
place  this  prisoner  in  a  strong  room,  while  I  have  another  little  in- 
terview with  him  and  Miss  Belle." 

Dismounting  and  swinging  his  still  insensible  burden  over  one 
shoulder,  he  made  his  way  to  a  side  entrance  that  opened  upon  a 
sort  of  veranda. 

James  Bartholemew  appeared  to  be  maRing  merry  with  his  gray 
uniformed  company,  and  seemed  to  have  banished  the  uneasiness, 
even  terror,  occasioned  by  the  note  we  have  seen  him  receive 
shortly  before — he  was  suddenly  surprised  to  see  Captain  Striker 
stalk  unceremoniously  in  among  them. 

To  one  or  two  of  the  assembled  Confederates,  Striker  was  known, 
and  his  appearance  was  greeted  cordially. 

With  a  politeness  that  was  part  of  his  character  when  in  such 
surroundings — very  unlike  his  even  coarse  way  when  in  such  scenes 
as  those  in  the  woods  shortly  previous— he  took  time  to  partake  of 
a  glass  of  wine  and  exchange  a  few  words  of  pleasantry  with  his 
brothers  in  arms. 

Bartholemew  observed  the  captain's  piercing  black  eyes  on  him 
singularly,  that  there  was  a  dangerous  smile  under  the  heavy  mus- 
tache betokening  a  pending  something  more  than  usually  sinister. 

"I  am  afraid  of  Captam  Striker,"  half  groaned  the  old  gentle- 
man, inwardly.  "He  has  something  to  say  to  me— I  can  plainly 
see  that.    What  is  it  ?   What  has  he  come  back  here  for  ?" 

His  mental  questioning  was  soon  to  be  answered. 

Presently,  at  a  sign  from  Striker,  which  for  some  reason  he  did 
not  care  to  disregard,  he  passed  out  to  the  veranda,  and  was  ex- 
peditiously joined  by  the  captain. 

"Heh!"  he  exclaimed.  "What's  this?  What  have  you  here, 
captain?"  as  the  first  thing  his  glance  rested  on,  laying  straight 
and  motionless,  was  the  securely  bound  form  of  Carlton. 

"A  Yankee— and  a  spy.  I  had  the  devilish  good  luck  to  capture 
him." 

"  A  spy !     String  him  up !"  said  the  old  gentleman,  at  once. 

"Oh,  no,  not   just   yet.    But, 'sflames!  we'll    do    that   soon 

enough,  never  fear.  For  the  present  f  have  an  object  in  holding 
him  prisoner."  ^ 


42  OLD   FUSEE. 

*'  An  object ?    What  kind  of  an  object?" 

"  I  will  explain  anon.  Now,  friend  Bartholemew,  you  have  a 
strong  cellar,  I  think." 

"Cellar?    Yes.    What  about  the  cellar?" 

"We  will  put  the  Yank  in  the  cellar  until  I  am  ready  to  carry 
him  to  headquarters." 

"  Oh,  I  see;  you  want  to  stop  awhile  and  have  a  good  time  with 
the  ofBcers  who  have  honored  me  by " 

"No  matter.    Let  us  get  him  into  the  cellar." 

"  Come,  then.  As  you  say,  it  is  a  very  strong  cellar.  No  danger 
of  his  getting  out,  my  dear  captain." 

As  he  led  the  way,  and  Striker,  again  shouldering  Carlton,  whose 
insensibility  had  remained  so  deep  as  to  seem  like  death  itself,  fol- 
lowed after  him,  Bartholemew  was  thinking: 

"Zounds!  I  believe  this  captain  with  a  fierce  mustache  has 
given  up  his  idea— a  deucedly  dangerous  idea  for  me — that  Belle 
has  been  doing  anything  like  what  he  supposed  she  had.  lam 
glad  enough  of  it— very  glad." 

There  were  two  cellars  under  the  great  stone  house.  In  one  was 
the  store  of  wine  for  which  James  Bartholemew's  hospitality  was 
famous,  whenever  a  Confederate  crossed  the  threshold ;  for,  though 
close  to  meanness  with  the  world  in  general,  the  boys  in  gray  were 
ever  an  exception  to  this  trait. 

In  the  other  cellar  were  only  heaps  of  storage,  and  a  small  open- 
ing, with  a  stout  bar  of  iron  across,  was  the  only  mode  of  even 
ventilating  the  place. 

Into  this  latter  Carlton  was  carried,  and,  still  bound,  dumped 
roughly  on  a  pile  of  straw  at  one  side. 

There  they  left  him,  unconscious,  tightly  confined  and  helpless 
in  the  improvised  bonds,  in  a  darkness  blacker  than  the  darkest 
midnight  of  earth. 

An  iron  key  was  turned  in  the  massive  lock,  and  left  on  the  out- 
side. 

Bartholemew  had  no  fear  of  any  one  daring  to  open  the  cellar 
without  being  expressly  sent  to  do  so  by  his  order. 

"There,  my  dear  captain,  he  is  safe  enough.  But  I  still  think  it 
would  be  better  to  hang  or  shoot  him  without  any  such  delay. 
You  know  very  well  I  would  like  to  hang  and  shoot  all  the  ac- 
cursed horde  who  wear  the  blue." 

"Yes,  I  know,"  returned  the  captain,  briefly,  as  they  reascended 
to  the  merry  company  in  the  parlor. 

Striker's  brisk  ride,  and  the  combat  with  Carlton  had  given  him 
a  keen  appetite  for  some  of  the  rare  wine  which  he  knew  Bar- 
tholemew kept.  He  could  bide  his  time  before  beginning  to  work 
again  his  plan  for  the  compulsory  marriage  of  Belle  with  him- 
self. 

The  glasses  clinked  and  the  red  wine  flowed  in  the  midst  of  the 
gay  officers  who  sat  and  talked  in  the  parlor. 


OLD  FUSEE.  ^ 

Captain  Striker  was  one  of  those  who  could  become  a  prime 
favorite  in  such  an  assemblage. 

And  while  Bartholemew  and  his  guests  at  this  late  hour  kept  up 
the  sociable  scene,  another  scene  was  transpiring  in  Belle's  bed- 
room, where  the  young   girl  was  yet  awake  and  had  been  long 
puzzling   herself   for   some   explanation  of  the  mysterious  note 
which  had  accidentally  come  into  her  possession. 
Belle  sat  on  a  high  ottoman  cushion;  before  her  was  Topsy. 
The  little  negro  was  on  her  knees,  fvith  black  hands  clasped,  and 
her  eyes  were  rolling  up  and  around,  while  her  jaw  dropped  as  if 
in  mingled  awe  and  fright. 
"What  is  this  you  say,  Topsy,  a  man  in  the  cellar?" 
♦'  Yes,  indeedy,  Miss  Belle,  a  man    dar.    De  massa  cap'n  brung 
him  to  de  house,  too;  I  seed  him.    Den  Massa  James  he  done  go  wi' 
de  cap'n  an'  dey's  flung  him  down  de  cellar  whar  de  rubbishes  is." 
"  You  talk  as  if  it  was  a  dead  man,  Topsy." 

"  Fo'  de  Lord  !  he  ain't  no  more  'n  a  dead  man.  Miss  Belle,  'cause 
he  hung  on  de   shoulger  of  de  cap'n  like  a  meal  sack.    An'  dey's 
got  him  tied  all  up  wi'  ropes,  shuah  dey  has." 
•'  This  is  strange.    Who  can  it  be  ?" 

"Dunno,  Miss  Belle;  but  de  man's  coat  war  tored  open,  an' I 
seen  sojer  clo's  an'  de  brass  butt'ns.  Blue  clo's  dey  war,  an' 
mighty  shiny." 

**  A  prisoner,"  she  murmured  to  herself.  "Who  can  Captain 
Striker  have  captured?  Heavens!  can  it  be?  but,  no!  Frank 
must  be  far  away  and  safe  by  this  time.      He   promised    me   he 

would  not  loiter  in  the  vicinity  a  minute;  and  yet " 

She  advanced  quickly  to  the  table  and  took  up  the  lamp. 
**  Stay  here,  Topsy,  until  I  come  back." 

"Yes,  Miss  Belle.  An'  oh.  Miss  Belle,  de  key  am  in  de  do'.  I 
seed  'em  leab  it  dar." 

For  she  instantly  divined  that  her  young  mistress  had  resolved 
to  see  who  it  was  that  had  been  confined  in  the  cellar. 

By  a  rear  entrance  Belle  descended  without  being  seen  by  those 
who,  under  the  influence  of  the  wine,  were  fast  becoming  a  com- 
pany of  revelers. 

Noiseless  and  swift  she  went  down  to  the  damp  cellar  passages, 
beyond  which  were  the  cemented  and  dry  compartments. 

"  The  cellar  where  the  rubbish  is,"  she  uttered,  as  she  waved  the 
light  ahead. 

She  soon  turaed  the  key  in  its  lock,  and  again  the  lamp  was  raised 
forward  as  her  glance  roamed  over  the  piles  of  odds  and  ends  that 
were  accumulated  there. 
Then  she  saw  the  recumbent  figure  of  the  prisoner. 
Saw,  too,  the  undercoat  of  blue  revealed   by  the  open  breast  of 
the  disguising  coat  of  gray. 

Saw,  too,  a  face  that  brought  a  throb  to  her  heart  and  nigh 
wrung  a  cry  from  her  lips. 


44  OLD  FuaS£. 

For  the  rays  of  the  lamp  exposed  to  her  startled  g^aze  the  fea- 
tures of  Frank  Carlton,  her  lover 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

A   DECISION  FOR  FLIGHT. 

Controlling  the  emotion  she  felt  at  thus  finding  the  man  she 
loved  in  such  a  plight,  Belle  set  down  the  lamp  and  hastened  to  his 
side. 

Kneeling,  she  raised  his  head  in  her  arms,  and  tenderly  brushed 
back  his  chestnut  locks  from  the  bloody  face. 

It  was  at  this  juncture  that  life  reasserted  itself  in  the  young  ma- 
jor's frame. 

He  opened  his  eyes  with  a  deep  sigh,  and  the  vision  that  greeted 
his  unsteady  gaze  was  all  the  more  calculated  to  increase  his  be- 
wilderment. 

"Belle!  is  it  truly  you  ?"  at  last  he  articulated,  while  she  had 
seemed  to  wait  breathlessly  for  this  sign  of  recognition. 

"  Oh,  Frank,  how  came  you  here?" 

He  smiled  in  a  way  that  was  ghastly  in  the  blood  that  stained  his 
face. 

"  I  did  not  come.  Belle ;  I  was  brought,  and  I  had  no  word 
in  it.    Do  you  not  see  that  I  am  a  fast  and  helpless  prisoner  ?" 

In  the  half-suppressed  excitement  of  the  discovery,  she  had  not 
observed  the  bonds  on  his  limbs,  or  that  his  hands  were  secured 
behind  him. 

In  a  trice  her  nimble  ^ngers  were  at  work,  and  strong  though 
the  knots  that  Captain  Striker  had  tied,  it  was  not  long  before 
Carlton  felt  the  blood  circulating  through  his  veins  once  more  in 
freedom. 

*'  God  bless  you.  Belle,  darling  !  But  where  am  I?  To  what  sort 
of  place  has  he  brought  me  ?" 

"  Of  whom  do  you  speak?" 

"The  Johnny  who  captured  me.  A  tall  fellow  wearing  an 
ofiBcer's  uniform.  And  a  man  with  some  muscle.  I  must  confess. 
"We  fought  in  almost  darkness ;  but  I  could  see  that  he  was  rather 
a  handsome  reb  with  an  enormous  mustache." 

"  Ah  !"  she  uttered,  thoughtfully.  "  Then  it  was  Captain  Striker. 
But,  dear  Frank,  you  must  make  haste  to  fly  from  here.  If  you 
were  made  prisoner  by  the  man  I  think  pou  were,  you  are  in  the 
hands  of  one  who  not  only  is  a  merciless  wretch  but  who  would 
have  you  shot  twice  over  if  he  knew  how  dear  you  are  to  me.  Are 
you  strong  enough  to  make  the  attempt?  There  are  horses  in  the 
stable.  Uncle  Jim,  with  a  considerable  company,  is  engaged  in  the 
parlor.    Do  not  lose  a  moment." 

He  rose  to  his  feet  and  clasped  the  beautiful  girl  in  his  arms  af- 
fectionately. 

'*  Yes,  Belle,  strong  and  anxious,  you  may  be  sure.  Ah !  how  I 
wish  1  could  take  you  with  me." 


OLD   FUSEK.  ^ 

A  suddeu  thought  came  into  the  braiii  Of  the  girl. 

The  man  who  was  her  guardian  had,  but  a  few  hours  earher, 
threatened  to  disown  her  and  drive  her  from  his  house  because  she 
dared  to  announce  her  unfaltering  love  for  this  very  man  Why 
not  fly  with  him  now,  since  she  had  made  him  her  choice  before  all 
other  men  ? 

But  she  said,  hesitatingly  : 

"  I  am  half  tempted  to  do  so,  Frank " 

-  Half  tempted,  you  say,"  and  he  held  her  tighter  in  his  passion- 
ate embrace.  ,     ,   ^  •     ^ 

In  a  brief  way  she  informed  her  lover  of  what  had  transpired 

between  James  Bartholemew  and  herself  in  the  parlor. 

-Then  come  with  me,  and  leave  him  forever!"  he  exclaimed, 

impetuously.  -c,       i  „. 

"  Do  you  realize  what  you  are  advising,  1  rant  / 

-Fully.  You  cannot  doubt  that  my  love  will  remain  forever 
true,  Belle,  darling  ?" 

"Not  that,  Frank.  But  have  you  forgotten  what  manner  of 
girl  it  is  you  bid  to  follow  you  and  be  your  companion  through 
life  ?  Remember,  I  have  not  one  relation  in  the  world.  Even  the 
history  of  who  I  am  or  may  be,  Uncle  Jim  seems  to  have  kept 
clouded  in  mystery.  I  came  to  him  but  a  waif.  I  have  been 
taught,  and  I  may  not  have  a  right  to  an  honest  man's  whole  pure 
love.  Besides,  have  I  not  always  been  a  bitter  rebel,"  with  a 
smile,  "and  could  you  reconcile  yourself  to  living  with  one  who, 
though  loving  you  dearly,  could  never  believe  that  the  cause  for 
which  you  wear  that  suit  of  blue  is  a  just  one " 

He  interrupted  her  with  a  playful  tenderness,  placing  one  hand 

^^.^gL^hri?fs^^fk^^d^o?Vrt2tSl^^^^^^  I  will  be  true  to  you, 
darling,  as  long  as  life  is  in  me.  As  to  your  Southern  preference 
-pshaw!  we  need  never  think  or  talk  of  those  matters,  and  our 
days  will  be  only  filled  with  happiness.  Come,  you  say  you  are 
half  tempted.  Let  me  make  it  whole.  Go  with  me,  be  my  own 
wife;  and  I  will  send  you  to  some  safe  little  nook  in  the  North 
where  I  can  join  you  when  the  war  is  over,  God  willing,  and  de- 
vote myself  to  you  as  long  as  we  both  shall  live !" 

"  I  will  follow  you,  Frank,"  she  decided,  compressing  her  red 
lips  firmly. 

And  she  added : 

-  Wait.    1  shall  not  go  empty  handed.    Are  you  armed  ? 

"No." 

"That  will  never  do.    We   must   be   prepared  for  any  danger. 

There  are  arms  in  the  house.    Oh,  Frank " 

"What,  dearest?" 

"  You  are  sure,  quite  sure,  that  you  know  the  solemnity,  to  me, 

of  this  step?" 
"My  own  dear  Belle,  believe  in  me;  have  faith  in  me." 


46  OLD  FUSEE. 

He  drew  ber  again  and  again  to  his  breast,  kissing  the  willing 
lips  that  met  his  caresses. 

"Let  me  lead  you  from  here,"  she  said,  hurriedly.  "I  can  find 
a  way  out  without  our  being  seen.  Go  to  the  stables.  Wait  for 
me  there,  and  while  waiting,  saddle  two  horses.  I  will  noi  be 
long." 

Having  decided  upon  flight,  the  character  of  the  girl  showed 
itself  by  the  promptness  with  which  she  planned  an  occupation 
for  her  lover  while  she  should  hasten  back  to  her  room  to  procure 
certain  articles  she  meant  to  take  with  her. 

Successfully  she  led  the  way  to  a  rear  door,  and  bidding  him 
hasten  with  his  task,  she  reascended  the  stairs. 

Rapidly  gathering  together  a  few  necessaries  for  toilet  purposes, 
and  snatching  the  most  valuable  of  her  jewelry  from  its  caskets, 
she  thrust  them  into  a  small  satchel  in  a  disordered  way,  then  tying 
her  jaunty  riding  hat  above  her  glorious  tresses,  she  turned  to 
Topsy,  who  had  looked  on  these  mysterious  preparations  with  as- 
tonishment. 

"Listen  to  me,  Topsy." 

"Yes,  Miss  Belle." 

"  If  any  one  should  ask  you  where  I  have  gone,  say  that  you  do 
not  know " 

"No  more  I  doesn't." 

"  Say  that  you  have  not  even  seen  me  since  I  said  to  you,  as  I 
now  say:  Clear  out!  Go  to  bed,  Topsy.  And  here's  a  bright 
gold  dollar  for  you  to  remember  me  by,  if  I  should  not  come 
back." 

As  the  faithful  little  negress  would  have  begun  to  sob  at  the 
hint  of  her  young  mistress'  prolonged  absence. 

"  Go,  now,  Topsy— go.    And  remember — silence  regarding  me." 

After  Topsy's  departure.  Belle  sought  a  room  where  there  were 
a  number  of  small  arms  kept,  and  selecting  the  best  of  several  re- 
volvers with  a  supply  of  cartridges,  she  hastened  down  to  join 
Carlton  at  the  stable. 

"Good-by,  Uncle  Jim,"  she  murmured,  as  she  went.  "You 
have  been  kind,  indeed,  to  me  in  many  ways;  but  you  said  to- 
night that  I  was  disgracing  you,  and  you  shall  not  have  the  op- 
portunity to  drive  me  from  your  house,  as  you  have  threatened. 
Good-by  old  home,  where  I  have  grown  from  babyhood!"  and  a 
tear,  one  in  each  dimming  eye,  started  from  the  lid  and  coursed, 
with  all  her  effort  to  repress  it,  down  her  fair  cheek. 

Softly  opening  the  same  door  by  which  she  had  given  Carlton 
egress,  she  stole  forth  toward  the  stables. 

As  she  drew  near,  she  was  surprised  to  see  the  form  she  knew 
was  her  lover's  standing  close  by  another  form— the  last  a  fe- 
male. 

The  horses  were  in  readiness. 

Still  inside  the  house  sounded  the  voices  of  the  revelers,  growing 


OLD   FUSEE.  47 

louder  each  moment  under  the  stimulating  effect  of  the  wine  from 
Bartholemew's  cellar. 

Everything  seemed  propitious  for  the  flight. 

"Who  is  this?"  she  asked,  with  some  misgiving,  and  indicating 
the  second  female  who  stood  beside  her  lover. 

And  in  the  next  breath : 

"  Ah,  we  have  met  before." 

"Yes,"  answered  Belle  Fusor.  "  And  to  you  I  owe  the  fact  of 
my  escape  from  the  rangers  when  they  had  nearly  caught  me 
here.  I  am  still  using  the  horse  you  so  generously  gave  me.  But 
we  must  not  stop  to  talk  here.  Major  Carlton  informs  me  that 
you  are  to  accompany  him.  We  have  a  hard  ride  ahead  of  us,  for 
I  am  sure  that  by  this  time  the  Confederate  general,  Stuart,  must 
have  reached  his  fighting  position  on  the  left  wing  of  the  army. 
There  is  cavalry  there,  and  our  course  is  through  danger.  Come, 
let  us  mount  and  be  off  ! " 

The  three  were  soon  in  their  saddles. 

Belle  Bartholemew  could  not  help  feeling  a  degree  of  inexplica- 
ble dislike  for  this  young  girl,  who  seemed  to  be  so  familiar  with 
her  lover,  and  who  she  saw,  as  she  had  not  seen  at  their  first  meet- 
ing at  the  stables,  when  she  had  given  the  fugitive  her  own  valu- 
able horse  to  aid  her  escape  from  the  rangers,  was  as  beautiful  as 
herself. 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

CARLTON'S     ESCAPE. 

Not  SO  easily  were  the  trio  to  escape. 

At  the  instant  they  gave  their  horses  the  rein,  heading  to  the 
uorth  and  west,  the  sharp  crack  of  a  revolver  rung  on  the  night 
air,  and  a  bullet  whistled  between  Belle  Bartholemew  and  her 
lover. 

"Whew  !  pretty  close,  I  call  that!"  exclaimed  the  young  major, 

"  On  1    Faster!"  urged  Belle  Fusor. 

"  H— o  I    Halt,  there ! "  roared  a  familiar  voice. 

The  voice  of  Captain  Striker. 

Bang!  came  ar.other  shot,  accompanied  by  the  single  bullet,  and 
the  voice  exclaimed : 

"Halt!  you  infernal  Yanks!"  harshly  snarled  the  voice  of  the 
ranger  captain.  Sorrel. 

These  two  captains— Sorrel  having  joined  the  company  in  Bar- 
tholemew's parlor  a  very  few  minutes  after  the  latter  gentleman 
and  Striker  returned  from  having  deposited  the  prisoner  in  the 
cellar— had  excused  themselves  for  a  few  moments  to  retire  to  the 
outside,  at  a  wink  from  Striker,  for  a  consultation  regarding  Belle 
Bartholemew. 

Striker  did  not  want  the  girl  captured,  and  at  once  taken  to 
camp  for  trial,  and,  possibly,  condemnation. 


48  OLD   FUt>EJS. 

He  loved  the  girl,  with  such  love  as  a  mau  of  his  caliber  is  capa- 
ble of  couceiving  for  a  beautiful  woman,  and  wished  to  enlist  the 
co-operation  of  Sorrel  in  compelling  her  through  fear  to  become 
his  bride. 

To  capture  and  hold  her,  with  the  prospect  of  death  in  store  for 
her,  was  the  object ;  and  he  well  knew  that  Sorrel  was  precisely 
the  man  to  assist  in  a  plot  of  that  character. 

But  before  a  word  to  the  point  could  pass,  and  as  the  evil  pair 
emerged  into  the  night  and  walked  around  to  the  rear  of  the 
house,  they  saw  the  fugitives  in  the  act  of  mounting  and  making 
off. 

At  the  sight.  Striker  seemed  to  understand  exactly  what  was 
transpiring,  for  he  cried,  sharply,  to  his  companion: 

"Look!  'Sflaraes!  The  prisoner  I  told  you  I  had  in  old  Bar- 
tholemew's  cellar  has  escaped !  That  cursed  girl  has  had  a  hand  in 
it !  Fire  on  them '  That  is  she  with  them  now  !— two  girls !  Fire ! 
lam  unarmed.    Wing  them !    Fire!*' 

The  Southern  ranger  always  was,  and  is  to-day,  noted  for  the 
quickness  with  which  he  can  draw  and  discharge  a  revolver. 

Even  after  Striker  had  uttered  the  last  word— following  it  with 
the  command  to  the  fugitives  to  stop— Sorrel  had  pulled  trigger 
and  sent  a  bullet  humming  close  to  the  ears  of  the  fleeing  party. 

And  as  did  Striker,  so  halloed  he : 

"Halt!— you  infernal  Yanks!" 

But  on,  like  the  wind,  swept  Carlton  and  the  two  girls. 

"I've a  notion  to  send  back  a  shot  as  a  compliment,"  said  the 
major,  half  turning  in  his  saddle. 

"No,"  objected  Belle  Fusor.  "Save  every  bullet.  We  may 
have  more  pressing  need  of  them  than  this.  But  they  will  be  soon 
in  pursuit  of  us ;  so  make  the  horses  do  their  best.    On !" 

Belle  Bartholemew  had  not  spoken  since  they  began  to  goad  the 
animals  to  their  utmost  speed. 

Deeper  within  the  bosom  of  the  Southern  girl  grew  the  dislike  tor 
this  one  whom  she  deemed  to  be  too  familiar  with  the  man  who 
was  her  plighted  lover. 

There  had  not  been,  was  not  now,  any  time  for  explauations  of 
how  the  two  had  become  acquainted. 

In  silence  they  continued  that  hard  dash  onward. 

And  it  was  not  long  before  they  could  hear  the  clatter  of  many 
hoofs  that  told  of  a  determined  chase  after  them. 

Extra  good  horses  must  the  pursuers  have  to  overhaul  the  trio. 
But  there  were  cunning  brains  behind  the  lovers  and  the  beauti- 
ful spy. 

Both  Sorrel  and  Striker  knew'  that  the  corps  intended  to  be 
massed  on  the  left  of  Lee's  army  must  be  at  or  near  their  objective 
point  by  this  time. 

The  pursued,  if  they  held  to  the  course  that  had  already  'oeeu 
gone  over  in  a  wild  chase  that  night,   would  assuredly  plunge  into 


OLD   FUSEE.  49 

the  midst  of  the  cavaliy  at  the  junction  of  the  sunken  roads  near 
the  branch. 

"Divide,"  suggested  Sorrel.  ''They  cannot  escape  us  except  by 
crossing  the  Potomac.  Blast  them  !  I  think  if  we  do  not  overhaul 
them  they  will  tumble  into  the  hands  of  Stuart." 

"  A  good  idea,"  agreed  Striker. 

The  ranger  captain  drew  back  on  his  rein  and  shouted  to  the 
mixed  horsemen  who  had  promptly  followed  the  two  officers  at 
their  call— some  men  who  had  come  in  attendance  upon  the  offi- 
cers who  sought  the  hospitality  of  Bartholemew,  and  some  of  the 
ofiRcers  themselves,  whose  steeds  were  held  in  waiting  for  them  by 
the  stone  fence  at  the  west  of  the  dwelling. 

Fully  a  score  made  up  the  pursuing  party,  and  a  few  of  these  did 
not  as  yet  know  exactly  what  it  was  they  were  after. 

Dividing,  half  of  these  continued  at  a  sv^  if  t  pace  on  the  course 
started  upon,  the  remainder,  led  by  Captain  Striker,  swerved  ob- 
tusely to  the  left  toward  the  river. 

Unaware  of  the  maneuver  of  their  enemies.  Belle  Fusor  had 
said: 

"  Turn  slightly  here— turn.  I  told  you  the  Confederate  cavalry 
was  moving  to  the  extreme  left  of  the  army,  and  behind  it  will  be 
placed  a  battery.  If  we  hold  to  this  route  we  shall  surely  be  taken 
prisoners.    Follow;  this  way." 

And  as  they  obeyed,  they  took  a  course  both  parallel  and  for- 
ward with  those  who  were  performing  the  same  thing  under 
Striker's  command. 

Then  for  a  distance  along  the  canal  on  went  the  fugitives,  their 
horses  breathing  hard,  and  Diamond,  Belle  Bartholemew's  gallant 
steed,  beginning  to  falter  after  so  much  exertion  as  he  had  been 
put  through  since  the  hour  when  still  sweating  from  the  ride  his 
mistress  had  taken  on  him,  he  had  been  so  generously  given  to  a 
stranger  of  her  own  sex  to  escape  the  persistent  chase  of  Sorrel'^ 
rangers. 

"  We  will  have  to  make  a  halt,"  said  the  spy. 

"Halt  now!"  exclaimed  both  Belle  and  Carlion  in  a  breath. 

"  That,  or  yovi  two  must  leave  me." 

"  We  will  never  do  that,"  declared  the  major. 

"Then  be  guided  by  me.  I  know  of  a  hiding  place  in  these 
woody  hills;  in  it  we  may  remain  safely  until  the  battle  com- 
mences, and  we  know  that  those  who  are  in  puisuit  of  us  would 
not  dare  be  absent  from  their  posts  at  the  hour  of  conflict  for  the 
mere  reason  of  hunting  down  two  women  and  a  man.  Slacken 
your  gait,"  she  advised,  as  they  entered  a  belt  of  woodland  and 
wound  along  near  the  river  that  they  could  hear  now  not  far 
ahead. 

"  But  what  is  the  object?"  Carlton  asked. 

"  My  horse  is  flagging.    Another  mile  and  he  will  drop." 


50  OLD  FUSEE. 

'"  Lead  US  where  you  will.  then.  We  assuredly  will  not  desert 
you.    Do  you  not  agree  with  me,  Belle?"  to  his  betrothed. 

"Yes,"  she  replied,  rather  shortly. 

Belle  Fusor,  the  spy,  had  not  scouted  in  that  section  without 
learning  something  more  than  the  movements  of  the  enemy,  as  her 
actions  presently  proved. 

Suddenly  she  came  to  a  stop  before  a  high  embankment  over 
which  grew  and  hung  a  dense  mass  of  tangled  growth,  which 
seemed  about  to  fall  upon  them  as  they  paused  there. 

Dismounting,  she  unhesitatingly  led  her  horse  directly  into  the 
black  depth,  the  others  following. 

The  bank  formed  an  arch,  well  screened. 

There  was  no  more  than  this,  for  when  the  major,  at  her  com- 
mand, lighted  his  fuse,  they  saw  a  fissure  making  into  what  ap- 
peared to  be  the  solid  earth  at  first,  a  huge  crack,  as  it  were, 
which  did  not  quite  extend  to  the  surface  above. 

"Your  handkerchiefs— quick,"  she  said. 

Tearing  the  handkerchiefs*  into  halves,  she  scraped  leafy  rubbish 
into  each  half,  twisting  the  pieces  into  soft  balls. 

The  others  watched  her,  by  the  dim  light  of  the  fuse,  in  silent 
wonderment. 

Her  object  was  soon  explained. 

When  she  had  made  six  small  and  soft  balls,  she  placed  a  ball 
firmly  in  each  ear  of  each  horse. 

"There,"  when  this  was  accomplished  with  great  dexterity. 
"  The  beasts  won't  hear  the  other  horses,  and  if  we  can  prevent 
their  scenting  them,  there  will  be  no  danger  of  a  whinny.  I  think 
I  can  provide  against  that,  too." 

From  her  pocket  she  produced  a  vial,  pouring  from  it  a  peculiar 
odored  fluid  on  her  hand.  Then  she  rubbed  and  smoothed  the 
nozzle  of  each  horse  with  the  perfumed  hand. 

More  than  once  had  she  saved  herself  from  discovery  by  her  foes 
by  a  similar  provision. 

Just  as  [soon  as  the  operation  was  completed,  the  horses  made 
fast  to  roots  in  the  bank,  and  the  beautiful  spy  had  told  her  com- 
panions to  follow  her  into  the  fissure,  they  heard  the  noise  of  hoofs 
and  voices  beyond  their  concealment. 

Striker  and  his  followers  were  beating  about  the  small  patch  of 
woods  where  he  knew  the  escaped  prisoner  and  the  two  girls  had 
certainly  entered. 

Like  hewn  statues  the  fugitives  stood  and  listened  in  the  impene- 
trable darkness. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE       ANTIETAM. 

The  theory  advanced  by  Belle  Fusor,  that  the  pursuers  would 
have  to  abandon  the  search,  to  be  on  hand  when  their  regiments 
were  called  for  action  in  the  morning,  was  correct. 


OLD   FUSEE.  T)! 

Through  the  long  remainder  of  thQ  night  they  could  hear  Strik- 
er's men  hunting,  first,  dangerously  close  and  then  far  from  the 
hiding-place,  lilie  a  pack  of  boys  at  a  game  of  "  pot  and  blue  beans," 
or  worse,  like  hungry  hounds  that  might  do  more  than  merely 
devour. 

But  the  night  did  pass  without  discovery,  and  with  the  first  of 
dawn  they  heard  the  boom  of  the  cannon  that  told  of  murderous 
shots. 

Hungry,  wearied  by  their  wakefulness  and  watchfulness  for  so 
many  hours,  the  words  of  Belle  Fusor  were  welcome  when  she 
said  : 

"  I  think  now  we  may  venture.  Come;  but  we  must  take  a  long 
route  areund,  as  you  will  find," 

Once  more  in  the  saddle,  they  pushed  onward,  ascending  the 
course  of  the  Potomac  as  best  they  could  through  ways  that,  per- 
haps, no  horsemen  had  ever  gone  over  before. 

As  they  ascended  anon  on  some  higher  eminence,  far  off  to  the 
eastward,  they  could  see  the  smoke  rolling  up  as  from  a  battle- 
field already  beginning  to  stain  with  the  blood  of  heroes,  and  a 
strangely  tingling  enthusiasm  pervaded  the  breasts  of  all  in  that 
little  party. 

When  they  had  gone  a  considerable  distance,  suddenly  aery  that 
he  could  not  restrain  broke  from  Major  Carlton. 

"Look— look  there!"  leveling  a  hand  off  to  the  northeast,  toward 
the  ridges  and  woods.  "  I'd  know  those  banners  in  a  stranger  field 
than  this.    My  regiment  is  there !    It  is  Hooker's  corps !" 

Yes;  far  away  were  the  moving  columns  of  Hooker  advancing 
toward  the  Confederate  left. 

From  their  point  of  observation,  as  they  still  pressed  on,  a  greater 
part  of  that  vast  field  was  exposed  to  their  view,  only  interrupted 
by  the  occasional  patches  of  timber  and  the  poetic  crests. 

There  were  no  signs  of  their  pursuers. 

Once  Carlton  halted  to  look  out  over  the  inspiring  panorama, 
where  the  soldiery  of  blue  and  gray  were  marching,  maneuvering; 
and  all  the  while  came  those  distant  boomings,  the  thunders  of  the 
artillery  at  their  duel  on  that  memorable  sixteenth,  preceding  the 
actual  and  awful  battle. 

"  Oh,  to  be  there!"  burst  from  him.  "  See!  the  corps  is  drawing 
steadily  down  upon  the  rebel  lines.  The  clash  must  come  soon  I  I 
must,  must  get  there.  What  will  be  thought  of  me,  to  be  absent  at 
such  a  tim  e  as  this !    Forward ! ' ' 

Again  the  horses  were  urged,  cantering  at  such  opportunity  as 
was  given  them  in  that  uncertain  path. 

Leaving  the  trio  making  their  way  thus,  we  turn  to  the  blue 
columns  that  were  coming  down  from  the  north. 

Hooker's  corps,  with  the  batteries  on  his  right. 

It  ^  as  past  noon. 


52  OLD  FUSEE. 

The  whole  Confederate  force  was  now  concentrated  for  the 
struggle  around  Sharpsburg. 

Hooker  was  coming  down  from  the  direction  of  Mercersville, 
and  Mansfield  had  been  ordered  to  follow  and  sustain  him. 

To  meet  the  Federals,  Hood's  brigades  were  placed  on  the  Con- 
federate left,  with  Jackson  in  reserve. 

Steadily  onward  marched  the  blues  of  Hooker. 

And  still  the  cannon  boomed  as  they  had  boomed  since  early 
dawn. 

Through  gullies  and  timber  patches  came  the  host  of  the  North  ; 
firmly  waited  the  lines  of  gray. 

Then,  when  the  day  was  well  spent,  suddenly  sounded  the  rat- 
tle of  muskets  and  zip— zip  of  deadly  bullets  from  both  sides,  an- 
nouncing that  the  skirmishers  under  General  Meade  had  struck 
the  gray  host  the  first  blow  in  the  clearing  of  the  Hagerstown 
road. 

The  guns  of  the  Pennsylvania  Reserves  had  opened  the  battle; 
but  Major  Carlton  was  not  there,  and  none  knew  of  his  where- 
abouts. 

A  rumor  was  started  that  he  had  been  killed  by  a  stray  shot  at 
the  time  the  division  passed  the  stone  bridge  over  the  Antietara. 

But  dusk  was  upon  the  hostile  forces.  The  boys  in  blue  had 
arrived  at  their  fighting  ground  too  late  to  enter  into  regular  bat- 
tle ;  and  after  the  skirmish,  with  Hood  still  grim  and  resolute  be- 
fore them,  they  rested  on  their  arms. 

It  needed  not  even  an  experienced  general's  eye  to  perceive  that 
the  heaviest  part  of  the  conflict  was  to  take  place  at  the  point  of 
Hooker's  approach. 

Under  cover  of  night  Lee  sent  fresh  men  to  relieve  the  force  of 
Hood. 

When  morning  dawned  again,  again  the  guns  volleyed. 

All  was  action  now— it  was  the  never  to  be  forgotten  seventeenth 
of  September! 

Forward  the  boys  in  blue ! 

Stern  answered  the  men  of  Jackson  from  the  Dunker  church. 

The  havoc  of  death  had  begun  in  earnest ! 

Mansfield  had  thrown  himself  forward. 

The  cannon  belched  their  fury. 

The  thick  smoke  rose  and  rolled  in  great  billows,  breaking  in 
patches,  filled  with  murderous  sounds. 

In  the  din  and  carnage  another  cheer  than  the  battle  cry  arose. 

A  brave  form  was  seen,  sword  in  hand,  encouraging  his  men— 
the  gallant  Major  Carlton ! 

He  was  in  time  to  prove  himself  a  soldier;  and  the  hearty  greet- 
ing of  the  men,  who  loved  as  brave  men  love  a  brave  ofiBcer, 
repaid  him  for  the  the  terrible  gantlet  he  had  run  to  be  with 
them. 

Back  and  to  the  right  of  Mansfield,  the  thundering  batteries. 


OLD  FUSEK. 


53 


Fiercest,  grimiest  among  the  gunners— Old  Fusee,  with  white  hair 
and  beard  streaming  bare,  and  knotty  muscles   working  as  only 
their  long  experience  could  work. 
By  eight  o'clock  the  combatants  were  almost  hand  to  hand. 
The  fronts  of  Hood  and  Jackson  had  not  wavered. 
In  the  heat,  the  smoke  and  vortex  of  death  and  struggle — hark ! 
the  thudding  hoofs  of  cavalry ! 

Swooping  down  upon  the  extreme  right,  came  the  avalanche  of 
horses  and  gleaming  sabers. 

Upon  the  Pennsylvanians  fell  the  brunt  of  the  charge. 

But  it  found  them  ready  with  bristling  front. 

Foremost  in  the  lumbering  ranks,  Carlton  saw  a  form  he  recog- 
nized—a leader  whose  face  was  that  of  a  demon  in  courage  and 
hate. 

The  ranger  captain,  Sorrel! 

Crash !  came  together  the  assailants,  and  the  ready  line  of  gleam- 
ing bayonets. 

Then  pandemonium  of  sound  and  scene. 

Men  and  horses,  the  blue  and  the  gray,  all  mixed,  all  in  bloody 
confusion,  where  sabers  struck  spitefully,  and  prodding  bayonets 
sought  the  vitals  under  the  gray. 

Sorrel  found  himself  met  by  a  soldier  in  major's  uniform,  whose 
Bword  engrossed  all  his  attention. 

"Aha!  you  wretch!"  shouted  Carlton,  whose  voice  there,  it  is 
doubtful,  could  be  heard  by  the  man  he  was  trying  to  run  through 
with  his  sword.  "  We  are  met,  Johnny  Reb!  I  have  not  forgot- 
ten that  you  were  one  of  those  who  hunted  me  like  a  hound  last 
night !" 

But  the  surging  mass  of  humanity  around  them,  with  its  deluge 
of  blood,  swept  them  apart  at  the  very  instant  Carlton  could  have 
driven  his  weapon  through  his  foe. 

Boom  !— boom  !  the  lively  batteries. 

And  streams  and  waves  of  fire  piercing  the  billows  of  smoke! 

Death  was  mowing  mercilessly  there. 

On  the  right— all  on  the  right,  this  gory  tableau  of  living  and 
dying  humanity,  in  flashes  of  steel,  in  whistling  of  gouging  slugs; 
louder  and  louder  the  roar,  the  rumble  that  rose  and  quaked  the 
very  vault  of  heaven ! 

The  troops  were  in  ! 

It  was  The  Antietam  ! 

Far  in  the  rear  of  the  seething  labyrinth  of  roar  and  death, 
there  was  another  scene — a  scene  of  agony,  shrieks  and  writhings 
under  the  horror  of  ghastly  wounds  and  the  surgeons'  knives. 

The  hospital  of  the  battlefield  ! 

Well  was  it  for  those  who  still  survived,  still  fought  in  the  hail 
of  lead  at  the  front,  that  they  dreamed  not  of  the  shudderful 
sights  under  the  doming  trees,  where  shot  nor  thrust  of  steel  could 
not  interrupt  the  unutterable  raise]  y  of  strong  men  lying  in  the 


54  OLD  I'USEE. 

grasp  of  strouger  hands,  to  hold  them  while  some  shattered  limb 
was  cut  away  or  yawning  wound  sewed  up  by  fingers  that  had  no 
time  now  for  tender  handling! 

The  shrieks,  the  groans  there,  were  of  a  kind  to  freeze  the  blood 
of  some;  while  others,  already  used  to  the  pitiful  accompaniment 
of  war,  moved  and  acted  in  the  suffering  aisles  of  rude  reared, 
bench-like  tables,  with  impassive  faces  and  steady  nerves. 

A  busy  day  for  the  surgeons,  with  their  bloody  knives  and  arm- 
f uls  of  swathes ! 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

TWO     EVIL     COMRADES. 

Still  further  in  the  rear,  on  an  eminence  beyond  the  reach  of  the 
deadly  range,  were  two  female  forms,  two  young  girls  who  looked 
upon  the  distant  carnage  with  faces  pale  and  a  suppressed  excite- 
ment within  them. 

Our  two  Belles— Bartholemew  and  Fusor. 

The  transient  feeling  of  jealousy  that  had  entered  the  heart  of 
Belle  Bartholemew  had  passed  now;  she  knew  all  that  had  trans- 
prired  to  bring  about  the  acquaintance  between  the  beautiful  spy 
and  her  lover,  and  prouder  she  felt  of  Carlton  when  she  heard  the 
brief  recital  of  how  he  had  so  bravely  rescued  a  beset  girl  from 
the  toils  of  her  enemies. 

And  both  were  in  a  mind  of  amazement  at  a  discovery  that  came 
to  them  when  they  left  the  concealment  we  have  seen  them  in, 
and  which,  at  the  time,  could  not  be  discussed  in  the  hurry  of  con- 
tinued flight. 

In  face  and  figure,  in  gesture,  even,  there  was  such  a  resemblance, 
one  to  the  other,  that  it  would  have  been  difficult  for  an  observer 
to  distinguish  between  them  if  set  apart.  More  than  sisters— twins 
they  fairly  looked  to  be. 

But  they  reasoned  mutually  that  there  could  not  possibly  beany 
relationship  between  them ;  it  could  only  be  attributed  to  some 
wonderful  freak  of  nature,  they  agreed. 

"Dear  Belle,"  said  the  spy,  ''ought  we  not  to  go  down  there 
among  the  wounded,  to  see  if  we  cannot  lend  some  assistance,  cool 
same  parched  lip,  or  speak  a  word  of  comfort  to  the  brave  men 
who  may  never  again  see  those  they  love  so  dearly  in  their  far  off 
homes?" 

"The  very  thought  that  was  in  my  mind.  Yes,  we  can  find 
duties  to  perform  there,  I  am  sure.  The  surgeons,  too,  may  be 
glad  to  have  a  woman's  hand  to  assist  in  the  horrors  of  their  sad 
tasks." 

"Come  then." 

And  soon  after  that,  the  two  could  be  seen  moving  about  in  those 
ghastly  aisles,  their  lovely  faces  pale  as  those  of  the  doomed 
wounded  around  them,  lovely  faces  that  burst  upon  the  agonized 


OLD   FUSEE.  55 

beings  like  a  vision  from  that  other  world  whose  undrearaable 
verge  they  were  so  soon  to  tread. 

Girls  of  nerve  and  beauty,  too,  were  they  ! 

"  God  bless  you  !"  greeted  them  by  the  side  of  slabs  slippery  with 
the  gore  of  those  whom  no  mortal  art  could  not  save. 

And: 

"  God  bless  you !"  was  breathed  a  hundred  times  from  lips  whose 
thirst  their  canteens  quenched. 

Ministering  angels,  these  two  rarely  beautiful  girls,  palely,  quiet- 
ly gliding  amid  the  trying  scene,  with  soft  words  and  substantial 
comfort  for  the  helpless,  bleeding  fellow  men  brought  back  from 
the  reverbating  maelstrom  beyond. 

And  still  the  guns: 

Boom— boom— boom  ! 

And  still  the  musket  roar,  that  at  tirae^  drowned  the  volume  of 
the  cannon  as  long  lines,  in  simultaneous  discharge,  volley  till  the 
heavens  shook. 

Bloody— bloody  Antietam ! 

The  right  wing  of  the  Union  army  was  now  .black  with  smoke 
and  red  with  human  misery. 

Yet  on  the  gallant  blues !  On  slowly  but  resolute,  like  veterans 
that  history  immortalized  before  their  time. 

By  ten  o'clock  the  second  bridge  had  been  carried  and  Richard- 
son, with  thundering  batteries  quaking  the  earth  and  air,  mowed 
lanes  and  furrows  in  the  ranks  of  Hill. 

The  "  center  "  was  in. 

Fiercer  the  roar  and  rage  of  that  slippery  field ! 

Then  slowly,  stubbornly  the  Confederate  lines  fell  l)ack— slowly, 
with  the  monuments  of  Union  dead  behind  each  inch  they  gave. 

Back,  back,  the  front  of  Hill  before  the  grim  heroes  of  Richard- 
son and  French. 

Sedgewick,  in  the  woods  lo  the  right,  was  pressing  Jackson  gra- 
dually in,  step  by  step. 

Around  the  Dunker  church  the  dead  were  heaping. 

Jackson,  Early,  Hood  and  Hill  had  given  ground  and  now  were 
abreast  in  a  mighty  line  that  seemed  as  firm  as  rock. 

Yet  on  the  boys  in  blue  ! 

Where  was  the  Ninth  corps  now  ? 

Where  was  Burnside?— he  who  waited  on  the  Union  left  to  strike 
with  vigor  at  Longstreet's  host  of  gray. 

Again  and  again  had  the  corps  that  lay  behind  the  bights  receiv- 
ed the  order  from  McClellan  to  carry  the  lower  stone  bridge  and 
assail  the  Confederate  light. 

Hour  after  hour  the  great  commander  waited  to  hear  the  guns  of 
Burnside,  which  would  have  lessened  the  slaughter  on  the  Union 
right  by  their  divertisement. 

Noon  had  come  and  passed  ere  the  bights  swarmed  with  the  blue 
lines  that  passed  the  last  bridge ;  and  then  there  were  fresh  divis- 


56  OLD  FUSEE, 

ions  just  arrived  from  Harper's  Ferry,  which  joined  the  conflict 
and  wrested  from  the  tardy  Burnside  each  dear-bought  inch  he 
had  gained. 

For  awhile  the  guns  boomed  on  ;  but  the  tragedy  of  death  had 
ceased  on  the  Union  right— the  fire  was  of  a  straggling  kiud  at  in- 
tervals amid  the  pall  of  smoke  that  settled  in  the  woody  depths  or 
hugged  the  gory  ground  with  its  sulphurous  breath. 

The  day  was  spent. 

The  terrific  battle  was  past— leaving  all  its  horrors  without  a  vic- 
tory for  either  side. 

Thousands  lay  piled  in  half  dozens  deep,  dead  or  shrieking;  and 
their  pitiful  cries  arose  now  as  an  after  echo  of  woe  to  the  roar,  the 
rattle  and  stormy  waves  of  deadly  sounds  during  that  frightful 
day. 

Bella !    horrida  hella  ! 

Watchful  were  the  armies  when  the  cloak  of  night  had  fallen. 

None  knew  what  might  be  yet  to  come;  the  grimy  faces  that 
waited,  their  owners  standing  or  laying  exhausted  on  the  ground, 
were  fixed  in  stern  expectancy. 

Strange  was  the  lull,  in  which  the  ears  of  men  seemed  to  detect 
murmurs  and  mutterings  that  were  like  the  vibration  of  the  terri- 
ble battle  borne  on  some  perpetuating  draught  afar  and  farther 
into  the  distance. 

Ears,  deafened  by  cannon  and  musketry,  still  seemed  to  hear  the 
noises  of  the  struggle,  and  the  glances  ihrown  around  were  at 
times  those  of  men  who  expected  to  see  fresh  belching  batteries, 
new  bursts  of  flame  from  some  advancing  line  of  blue  or  yelling 
front  of  gray. 

But  night  was  stealing  over  all ;  around  the  bluff?,  the  valleys, 
and  the  shot-torn  treetops,  the  last  lingenug  rays  of  daylight  were 
hanging. 

Antietam  had  gone  into  history. 

In  a  woody  spot  to  the  west  of  where  brave  Hooker  fell  wounded 
during  the  terrific  charges  near  the  Dunker  church,  a  by-scene  to 
the  conflict  of  the  fading  day  was  progressing. 

Two  men  in  uniforms  of  gray  were  there. 

One  lay  with  his  head  elevated  on  a  gnarly  log,  his  coat  open  at 
the  front,  and  from  his  breast  a  trickling  stream  of  blood  that 
could  not,  would  not,  be  stanched. 

By  his  side  knelt  the  second,  who  seemed  striving  with  all  the 
skill  he  possessed  to  relieve  the  wounded  man,  who  said,  rather 
weakly  : 

"  No  use,  Sorrel,  old  comrade — I'm  a-gouer." 

"  Curse  the  infernal  Yanks !"  gritted  the  voice  of  the  ranger  cap- 
tain, Sorrel.  "They  have  given  you  your  last  slug,  I  do  believe. 
They ,  haven't  whipped  us  yet,  though;  so  take  comfort  from 
that." 


OLD  FUSEE.  57 

"Poor  comfort  for  a  dyinglJman,"  said  the  other,  in  a  tone  of 
ghastly  humor. 

The  man  with  the  great,  bleeding  hole  in  his  breast  was  Captain 
Jack  Striker. 

"  I  have  got  to  go,  and  I  know  it,"  he    continued.    "There's  no 
use  slobbering  and  blubbering  over  it,   either.    But,  before  I  die. 
Sorrel,  old  comrade  mine,  I  have  something  to  say  to  you." 
Inwardly,  Sorrel  muttered  : 

"  Bla^t  it !  if  he  has  anything  to  say  he  had  best  be  quick  about 
it,  I'm  thinking.  He'll  be  a  dead  man  in  fifteen  minutes,  or  I  don't 
know  Hnything  about  wounds." 

The  ranger  captain  was  no  novice,  even  at  this  early  stage  of  the 
war.  On  his  body  were  numerous  scars  from  wounds  received 
since  he  had  figured  in  his  first  fight  at  the  battle  of  Rich  mountain 
— a  ranger  from  the  moment  of  the  infant  sound  of  war  in  the  wild 
regions  of  Maryland  and  West  Virginia. 
Aloud,  he  said  : 

"  What  is  it  you  have  to  say,  old  friend  ?  I  am  listening." 
"I  wish,"  responded  Striker,  evidently  speaking  with  consider- 
able difficulty,  "I  wish  to  say  something  in  regard  to  Belle  Bar- 
tholeraew.  'Sflame !  the  hardest  thing  to  swallow  is  the  knowledge 
that  I  am  to  die  before  I  succeeded  in  making  that  beautiful  witch 
my  wife." 

*'  But  go  on,"  urged  Sorrel,  who  was  immediately  interested  by 
this  allusion  to  the  lovely  girl. 

The  ranger  had  half  conceived  already  the  idea  that  he  would 
much  like  to  possess  such  a  girl  for  his  own  as  Belle  Bartholemew 
seemed  to  be.  At  the  prospect  of  Jack  Striker  dying,  and  this  fact 
removing  his  friend  from  the  position  of  a  rival,  the  idea  in  em- 
bryo before  was  now  aroused  more  forcibly  by  Striker's  words: 
"  I  wish  to  say  something  in  regard  to  Belle  Bartholemew." 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

ViEATH   OF  A   VILLAINOUS  CAPTAIX 

Sorrel  saw  that  his  comrade's  minutes  were  numbered.  What- 
ever was  to  be  imparted  must  be  said  in  a  hurry. 

"  Drink  some  of  this,"  he  insisted,  holding  a  small  flask  of  spirits 
to  the  dying  man's  mouth. 

Striker  allowed  the  liquor  to  gurgle  down  his  throat  with  signs 
of  considerable  relish. 

After  the  draught,  he  smacked  his  lips  feebly. 

"That  is  good,"  he  commented. 

"  But  you  have  something  to  say,"  persisted  Sorre 

"Yes— about  this  witch  of  a  girl.  Belle  Bartholemew.' 

"  Well,  what  about  Belle  Bartholemew  ?  You  wish  me  to  take 
some  message  to  her  from  you  ?" 


58  OLD  FUSEE. 

"  'Sflames !  no.  I  am  a  dying  man ;  but  I  am  determined  that 
she  shall  not  escape." 

"Escape?    How?    What  do  you  mean  ?" 

"  If  she  cannot  be  my  wife,  she  shall  be  the  wife  of  the  man  I  select 
for  her,"  was  the  rather  remarkable  speech  of  Captain  Striker, 
and  his  weakening  voice  was  a  hiss,  as  if  even  in  his  last  fading 
moments  he  clung  to  his  amorous  passion  for  the  young  girl  in  a 
savage  way. 

*'  Blast  it !    I  don't  catch  just  what  you  mean,  comrade." 

"  Belle  Bartholemew  is  no  kin  to  old  James  Bartholemew " 

"  I  know  that." 

"Hal  but  you  do  not  know  that  the  girl  is  entitled  to  a  snug 
fortune  in  her  own  right." 

"  No,"  aspired  Sorrel,  with  hugely  increasing  interest. 

*'  By  merest  chance  I  found  that  out— found  that  long  ago,  when 
she,  a  puling  infant  came  under  old  Bartholemew's  care,  he  at  the 
same  time  made  deposits  and  investments  in  the  child's  name, 
with  himself  as  trustee." 

"  By  my  soul !"  ejaculated  Sorrel,  now  all  ears. 

"  At  the  first  indication  of  war— the  old  rat— he  withdrew  and 
realized  every  dollar.  It  had  accumulated,  too,  in  the  time  it  had 
been  out.  An  old  lawyer,  now  dead,  from  whom  I  got  the  secret, 
said  that  Belle  Bartholomew,  though  he  doubted  if  anybody 
knew  it,  was  at  least  worth  one  hundred  thousand  dollars." 

"  One  hundred  thousand  dollars!"  repeated  Sorrel. 

Inwardly,  he  added : 

'*  Ho  !  I  think  I  will  make  an  effort  to  get  hold  of  that  money,  if 
ever  I  can  find  the  girl" 

And  aloud  again  : 

"Well,  comrade?" 

"I  have  ascertained,"  went  on  the  dying  Confederate,  "  that 
Belle  Bartholemew  is  in  utter  ignorance  of  the  fact  that  she  has  a 
rightful  claim  to  such  a  splendid  sum  of  money.  I  have  been  try- 
ing to  win  first  the  girl,  then  I  would  be  able  to  bring  old  Bar- 
tholemew to  a  reckoning;  for  I  am  convinced  that  the  deposits 
made  long  ago,  and  afterward  withdrawn  to  oblivion  in  the  old 
man's  purse,  were  monies  given  to  him  to  be  paid  to  her  when 
she  should  have  arrived  at  a  proper  age  to  handle  her  inherit- 
ance." 

"  This  is  a  rare  secrefc  you  are  telling  me — rare  and  valuable.  Go 
on,  comrade." 

"But,  'sflames!  Belle  Bartholemew  is  not  to  be  mine,"  burst 
spasmodically  from  the  Confederate  captain's  lips,  under  his  mon- 
strous and  disordered  mustache. 

"So  it  seems,"  assented  Sorrel,  within  his  mind;  and  he  said: 
"Unfortunately,  no;  for  I  must  be  plain  in  saying  that  you  will 
soon  be  a  dead  man,  and — and  hasten  with  the  balance  of  this  won- 
derful secret,  my  loved  comrade,  if  there  is  any." 


OLD   FUSEE.  69 

'•  There  is  hardly  any  more  to  the  secret.  But  my  object  in  tell- 
ing you  was  to  bring  to  your  notice  an  incentive  to  win  the  girl, 
by  fair  means  or  foul,"  and  as  Striker  said  this,  there  was  a  look 
in  his  fierce  eyes,  a  tone  in  his  failing  voice  which  revealed  a  devil- 
ish nature  in  his  heart  more  than  could  have  been  suspected  in  his 
character  so  far. 

Devilish,  because  he  knew  that  Sorrel  was  a  born  rufiQan,  and  if 
the  ranger  captain  could  win,  or  capture  and  force  the  lovely 
girl  to  wedlock,  it  would  be  a  sweet  revenge  for  his  loss  of  her, 
even  though  he  could  not  realize  it  in  his  grave. 

Had  there  been  no  incentive,  this  tale  of  a  hundred  thousand 
dollars  which  by  right  belonged  to  Belle  Bartholemew,  and  was 
being  withheld  from  her  by  sly  old  James,  would  have  pricked  his 
determination  to  make  her  his  bride.  Added  to  the  revelation  the 
fact  that  he  was  already  enamored  of  her  dashing  and  extraordi- 
nary beauty,  he  was  saying,  in  the  silence  of  his  ruffian  brain  : 

"Ho!  Belle  Bartholemew  shall  be  mine.  A  young  lady  of  love- 
liness and  wealth  is  a  most  desirable  possession  as  a  man's  wife.  I 
will  have  her;  at  least  I  will  have  the  money,  and  I  shall  devote 
myself  to  hunting  her  up  speedily." 

Just  then  a  horrible  spasm  seemed  to  seize  the  Confederate  cap- 
tain. He  writhed  as  he  lay,  giving  vent  to  a  groan  of  deep  agony, 
then  making  as  if  he  would  have  started  up,  despite  his  mortal 
wound. 

"Lay  still,"  ordered  Sorrel,  sharply.  "  You'll  hasten  your  death 
if  you  try  any  such  foolishness  as  that." 

" I  am  burning  up.    Drink!    Give  me  drink!" 

"  I've  no  water ;  but  here's  the  flask.    Drink,  and  be  quiet." 

Again  he  held  the  liquor  to  Striker's  mouth,  while  he  thought : 

"  He  is  going  fast.  A  few  minutes  more  and  I  will  have  seen  the 
last  of  Jack  Striker.  A  brave  fellow  he  has  been,  anyhow.  The 
bullets  of  the  infernal  Yanks  seem  to  pick  out  just  such  brave 
men  as  Captain  Jack  Striker.  Ho !  I  have  had  many  a  close  shave 
myself  to-day." 

The  relief  afforded  by  the  draught  of  liqflor  was  only  of  short 
duration. 

A  few  seconds  later  there  came  another,  a  worse,  spasm  over  the 
dying  frame. 

"Belle— Belle  Bartholemew!"  gasped  Striker.  "Find  her. 
Make  her  your  wife !    It  will  be  sweet  vengeance  for  me." 

While  the  words  seemed  yet  to  grind  out  from  under  his  great 
mustache,  his  form  stiffening  in  the  final  throe. 

The  next  instant  Sorrel  knew  that  he  was  holding  up  the  frame 
of  a  dead  man. 

"Vengeance,  he  says,"  repeated  the  ranger,  in  Striker's  words. 
"  Bah !  what  is  vengeance  to  a  man  dead  and  his  bones  picked, 
perhaps,  by  carrion  birds.  I  am  glad  he  did  not  die  before  telling 
me  this  little  secret  about   Belle  Bartholemew.    Yes ;  good,  now. 


60  OI^   FUSEE. 

If  I  can  only  find  the  girl.  A  lovely  girl,  and  plenty  of  money. 
Ho  !  I  think  I  see  a  gay  life  ahead.  For  if  I  can  but  find  her,  for- 
sooth. I  shall  make  her  marry  me  or— or  wish  she  had,  that's  all! 
I  would  like  to  bury  you,  comrade  mine,  but  I  have  nothing  to  dig 
a  grave  with.  Besides,  I  think  I  had  better  be  getting  out  of  this 
locality;  the  Yanks  are  prowling  round.  Who  knows  but  that 
even  now,  while  I  have  been  listening  to  this  secret  of  Belle  Bar- 
tholemew  and  easing  the  last  moments  of  Captain  Jack  Striker,  I 
have  been  surrounded,  and  any  minute  may  see  me  in  the  'cursed 
hands  of  the  Yanks,  a  captive." 

His  own  low  spoken  thoughts  were  prophetic. 

"Right  you  are,  Johnny  Reb,"  broke  forth  a  voice  not  a  dozen 
feet  away. 

And  Sorrel  saw  advancing  upon  him  in  the  gloom  three  men 
whose  garb  he  could  dimly  discern,  were  of  the  blue  he  hated. 

Some  of  those  stragglers  who  had  reduced  the  fighting  force  of 
General  Hooker  by  nearly  one-half,  and  would  have  brought  utter 
defeat  upon  him  had  it  not  been  for  the  timely  arrival  of  brave 
Mansfield,  then  mortally  wounded,  on  the  field  of  battle  at  the 
right. 

Stragglers,  and  of  that  vulturous  kind  who  are  cowards  singly, 
but  bold  by  numbers. 

Never  was  there  an  army  yet  without  its  skulking  cowards. 

Coming  accidentally  upon  the  dying  Confederate  and  the  one 
who  was  administering  to  him,  even  then  they  had  paused  to  con- 
sider the  advisability  of  attacking  the  man  in  gray,  whose  outline 
showed  him  to  be  one  of  those  rangers  whose  reputation  for  des- 
perate fighting  qualities  was  well  known  to  the  boys  in  blue. 

But  their  number  gave  them  ccxurage.  Tliey  were  three  to  one. 
Their  bayonets  were  at  their  sides ;  since  the  lull  of  battle,  each 
had  procured  from  some  dead  body  a  revolver. 

With  bayonets  and  revolvers  drawn  they  advanced  upon  the 
solitary  ranger. 

"  Give  it  up,  Johnny;  we've  got  you,"  said  one. 

"Yes;  back  down,  old  graycoat!"  added  another. 

"  Surrender,  or  we'll  blow  the  top  of  your  rebel  head  off,"  chim- 
ed the  third. 

From  three  different  points  they  came  toward  Sorrel,  their 
weapons  leveled  at  his  head,  and  the  bayonets  held  in  readiness  for 
stabbing  him. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

SI  SORREIi  AFTER  ONE  HUNDRED   THOUSAND  DOLLARS. 

The  quick  eye  of  the  ranger  saw  that,  notwithstandmg  they  out- 
numbered him,  for  some  cause  they  were  not  altogether  free  from 
fear  of  him. 

His  eyes  kindled  as  they  took  in  the  trio 


OLD   JTTBEE.  61 

Took  them  in  at  a  single  glance;  and  then  somefhing  happened 
that  was  an  astonisher  to  the  party  who  would  have  made  him 
prisoner. 

"  Surrender!"  had  scarcely  left  the  lips  of  the  third  man  when 

Quick  as  a  pass  of  lightning  the  ranger  captain's  revolvers  were 
in  his  hands  and  thrust  forward. 

Bang,  bang!  barked  the  weapons. 

Then  his  arms  began  a  vertical  and  rapid  see-saw  motion,  the 
barrels  continuing  to  discharge  right  and  left. 

Bang,  bang,  bang ! 

A  fair  marksman  was  Sorrel ;  but  under  the  circumstances,  men- 
aced by  the  weapons  of  the  others,  the  snap  shots  he  sent  into  the 
midst  of  his  foes  were  hurried  and  without  the  effect  they  might 
otherwise  have  had. 

As  it  was,  one  of  the  stragglers  went  down  with  a  bullet  in  his 
brain,  and  both  the  others  uttered  a  yell  of  pain  as  the  thudding 
lead  entered  their  bodies  with  more  or  less  precision. 

The  unexpected  and  telling  resistance  was  enough. 

The  two  survivors,  bleeding  and  cursing,  turned  and  ran  ignomi- 
nously. 

But  Sorrel  realized  that  the  shots  would  soon  bring  others  to  the 
spot. 

Thrusting  back  his  revolvers  into  his  belt,  he  too  turned  and  ran 
stumbling  through  the  bushes. 

"By  my  life!"  he  interjected,  as  he  ran,  "I  think  those  louts 
will  conclude  I  was  the  wrong  man  for  their  money.  Three  men! 
Bah  !  it  would  take  more  than  three  men  to  capture  Si  Sorrel.  Yes, 
more  than  three — more  than  a  dozen,  since  I  am  determined  to 
survive  everything  now,  and  make  the  beautiful  Belle  Barthole- 
mew  mine." 

On  he  stumbled. 

When  he  had  crossed  the  ridge  on  which  were  the  woods  where 
lay  the  dead  body  of  Striker,  and  as  he  had  entered  another  strip 
of  trees,  he  suddenly,  and  almost  with  exposure  to  himself,  came 
upon  something  that  caused  him  to  halt  abruptly  and  shrink 
back  within  the  dense  shade. 

At  the  border  of  the  small  opening  he  was  just  about  to  emerge, 
upon,  he  discovered  two  figures  standing  near. 

A  man  and  a  female. 

The  latter  was  speaking. 

"  But,  you  dear  Old  Fusee,  had  we  not  better  postpone  this  visit 
until  we  are  less  liable  to  be  captured  by  the  Confederates  who 
still  hold  Sharpsburg  and  are  thick,  I  am  sure,  at  the  house  of 
James  Bartholemew?" 

"No,"  said  the  man's  voice — the  voice  of  the  old  gunner, 
Fusee.  "  We  will  go  now.  The  rebels  will  retire,  my  word  for  it. 
I  would  wager  that  they  are  even  now  moving    stealthily    back 


G2  OLD  rrsEE. 

into  Virginia.  They  have  had  enough  of  this  fight  for  awhile. 
We  will  go  to  the  house  of  James  Bartholemew." 

"Ha!"  interjected  the  listening  ranger,  sotto  voce.  "They  are 
going  to  the  house  of  James  Bartholemew.  And — "  striking  his 
hip  in  a  hard,  though  mufled  way—"  by  my  life,  I  believe  there  is 
the  girl  herself,  Belle  Bartholemew,  in  her  gray  riding  habit,  that 
I  saw  the  other  night  when  I  first  suspected  that  she  was  a  spy. 
Yes,  it  is  she.  Oho  !  if  you  go  to  your  home,  my  charmer,  be  sure 
I  will  be  there  too.  You  v.i\\  find  that  the  '  rebels,'  as  you  call 
them,  have  not  gone  back  into  Virginia— not  all,  at  any  rate.  lam 
here.  I  can  find  my  rangers  too,  if  they  have  not  all  been  killed 
after  that  abominable  charge  upon  the  men  of  Hooker.  Yes,  I  am 
here  yet." 

Old  Fusee,  for  he  it  was,  did  not  speak  in  the  language  and  style 
we  have  seen  him  use  when  conveying  to  McClellan  the  informa- 
tion furnished  by  the  beautiful  spy. 

There  was  some  secret  about  the  man,  then,  who  talked  with  a 
disguised  tongue  amid  the  regiments  and  before  his  commander, 
and  with  a  mysterious  naturalness  when  he  addressed  Belle  Fusor, 
as  we  have  noted  him  to  do  on  a  former  meeting  with  the  girl 
when  she  was  fleeing  from  the  rangers. 

For  his  companion  now  was  Belle  Fusor. 

"  We  will  go  to  confront  James  Bartholemew  now,  bless  your 
bright  eyes.  For  to-morrow  the  battery  may  be  ordered  away 
from  here,  and  years  may  elapse  before  I  have  such  another 
chance  to  bring  him  to  account  for  his  villany.  But  what  can 
keep  the  others  ?    They  are  lovers,  you  tell  me  ?" 

"Yes,  Belle  Bartholemew  is  the  promised  wife  of  Major  Frank 
Carlton." 

This  remark  puzzled  the  listening  captain  somewhat. 

But  he  muttered  : 

"  The  others.  They  are  expt?cting  others  along  here.  I  must  not 
be  caught.  Not  that  I  fear  them— this  man  and  another  man  who 
:s  to  come— bah  !  But  I  have  an  object  just  now  in  keeping  my 
carcass  out  of  danger.  Ho !  I  must  remain  whole  to  capture  and 
to  wed  charming  Belle  Bartholemew,  the  dashing  girl  worth  a 
hundred  thousand  dollars." 

Cautiously  he  withdrew  further  back  into  the  shadows,  crawl- 
ing feet  first  under  a  bush  whence  he  could  still  see,  though  he 
could  not  hear  the  conversation  of  the  old  gunner  and  the  girl 
who  were,  perhaps  rashly,  making  their  way  ^toward  the  house 
of  James  Bartholemew. 

Presently  the  captain  saw  another  couple  in  the  gloom  approach- 
ing the  pair  who  were  standing  in  evident  waiting. 

And  then  it  was  that  his  eyes  distended  in  huge  surprise  as  he 
noted  the  remarkable  resemblance  in  stature,  figure  and  carriage 
between  the  two  girls. 

"  Ho !"  he  mumbled,  behind  his  teeth,  "  two  Belle  Bartholemews ! 


OLD   FUSEE.  6^J 

and  both  dressed  in  gray.  Alike  as  two  peas  in  a  pod  !  Now,  how 
am  I  to  find  out  which  is  the  real  Belle  Bartholemew?  the  one 
with  the  hundred  thousand  dollars.  Curse  me,  if  I  want  to  get 
hold  of  the  wrong  one." 

By  his  muttering  it  would  appear  that  Captain  Si  Sorrel  consid- 
ered the  capture  and  coercion  of  the  lovely  young  girl  a  fixed  fact 
and  only  a  question  of  a  little  time. 

How  far  correct  he  was  in  this  self-confidence  will  be  shown 
presently. 

When  the  party  of  four  were  joined,  they  started  silently  away 
and  were  in  a  few  seconds  lost  to  sight. 

The  captain  arose  from  his  lurking  place  and  stealthily  follow- 
ed, while  he  was  planing  as  to  what  he  should  do. 

Satan,  it  seems,  is  ever  at  hand  to  aid  those  who  serve  him  in  life 
with  the  promise  of  becoming  his  after  death. 

Hardly  twenty  steps  had  Sorrel  gone,  when  he  was  arrested  by 
the  sound  of  approaching  and  heavy  crashing  feet  in  the  thicket 
not  far  to  one  side  of  him. 

Again  he  sought  cover,  dodging  behind  a  tree  with  an  oath  at 
the  interruption  to  his  trailing  of  the  four  persons  making  their 
way  through  the  woods  toward  the  house  of  James  Barthole- 
mew. 

But  the  next  instant  he  uttered  another  oath,  and  this  time  it 
was  one  of  elation. 

He  saw  two  men  whom  he  recognized  to  be  of  his  own  company 
of  rangers. 

"Ho,  there!"  he  cried,  stepping  out,    "  Halt!" 

His  hoarse  voice  was  recognized,  for  the  men  halted,  and  one 
said : 

"  Captain  Sorrel,  as  I'm  a  sinner ! ' ' 

"Yes,  Captain  Sorrel,"  he  responded,  getting  to  their  side. 

"  Thought  you  was  a  goner,  cap,  in  that  charge  on  the  Yanks. 
There's  not  many  of  us  left." 

"  To  the  deuce  with  the  Yanks!  Listen  to  me  now.  Come,  fol- 
low me  as  you  listen.  I  want  you  for  some  other  kind  of  fighting, 
it  may  be.    Forward." 

With  which  he  strode  away  again  on  the  track  of  Fusee,  Carlton 
and  the  girls. 

The  two  rough-riders— now  without  horses,  since  that  charge 
wherein  Sorrel  came  near  losing  his  miserable  life  at  the  sword 
point  of  Major  Carlton — followed  their  leader,  ready  as  ever  for 
any  devilment  or  to  fight,  as  he  might  choose  to  indicate. 

It  was  a  perilous  undertaking  in  which  we  now  find  our  princi- 
pal characters— the  old  gunner.  Major  Carlton,  and  the  two  beauti- 
ful Belles. 

All  that  portion  of  the  hills,  gullies  and  roads  north  of  Sharpsburg 
was  alive  with  stragglers  from  the  Confederate  army;  they  were 
liable  at    any  minute    to  be    confronted  by  foes,  who,  in   the  still 


64  OLD  FUSEE 

warm  excitement  of  the  recent  battle,  would  assuredly  have  sub- 
jected them  to  some  pretty  rough,  if  not  fatal  handling. 

When  joined  by  the  two  men  of  his  ranger  company— daredevils 
both— Captain  Sorrel  made  no  effort  to  conceal  the  fact  that  he 
was  on  the  trail  of  the  four  who  were  thus  venturing  away  from 
the  Union  lines. 

Boldly  he  followed  the  course  he  knew  that  they  must  pursue 
to  reach  the  destination  he  had  heard  them  mention. 

And  it  was  not  long  before  the  quick  ears  of  the  fair  spy  de- 
tected that  there  was  some  one  in  their  rear  coming  persistently 
after  them,  notwithstanding  they  made  several  turns— some  one 
who  drew  nearer  and  nearer,  until  at  last  she  said  : 

"  We  are  being  tracked— did  you  know  it  ?" 

All  paused. 

The  others  heard  now.  For  Sorrel  and  his  men  were  swishing 
the  leaves  and  twigs  aside  with  their  heavy  boots  in  a  careless  and 
rapid  tramp. 

But  for  the  darkness  the  two  parties  would  have  been  plainly 
visible  to  one  another. 

As  it  was,  a  collision  was  imminent. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

REVOLVER     SHOTS. 

At  a  word  from  Old  Fusee,  the  four  dropped  to  their  knees  be- 
hind a  tall  and  broad  bush  from  the  midst  of  which  grew  a  giant 
tree. 

Had  it  been  daylight,  and  they  could  have  had  the  choice  of  a 
covert,  they  could  not  have  selected  a  more  admirable  place. 

None  too  soon  was  the  movement,  for  just  then  Sorrel  and  his 
rufiaan  pair  came  directly  upon  the  spot. 

Arrived  there  and,  as  by  some  strange  fatality,  deliberately 
halted. 

*' We  ought  to  have  come  up  with  them  by  this  time,  I  think," 
spoke  the  voice  of  the  ranger  captain. 

"  Up  with  who  ?    What  are  we  after,  cap  ?" 

♦*  Two  girls  and  two  men." 

♦' Might  I  ask,  cap,  what's  wanted  with  them?"  questioned  the 
other. 

"They're  all  cursed  Yanks— every  one !" 

**Oh!"  exclaimed  both  in  a  breath. 

"  And  if  we  have  not  missed  them  in  the  darkness,  I  think  we 
may  catch  them  hiding  around  here.  Fools  we  all  are,  making  so 
touch  noise!    Why  did  I  not  think  of  that?    Listen!" 

From  their  concealment  every  word  was  plainly  audible  to  our 
party. 

Fusee  leaned  and  whispered  in  the  major's  ear: 
"  I  make  out,  by  the  voices  I  hear,  that  there  are  but  three.    Are 
not  you  and  I  a  match  for  three?' 


OLD   PrSEE.  BT) 

"For  three,  yes,"  acquiesced  the  major;  "but  remember,   old 
fellow,  there  may  be  others  in  this  vicinity  who  are  our  bitter  ene- 
mies, and    a   row    with    this    trio    might  get  us    into  a  far  worse 
mess." 
"  True.    I  had  not  reckoned  on  that." 
At  this  point  occurred  something  unfortunate. 
Belle   Bartholemew    heard    the    whispered    conversation.    The 
brave  girl  was  averse   to  being  held  inactive  by  the  presence  of 
only  three  men.    She  had  not  the  experience  of  Belle  Fusor,  else 
she  would  never  have  done  what  she  now  did. 

In  an  under  tone  she  said  : 

"We  are  armed.  Let  us  charge  them.  The  chances  are  we  can 
easily  rout  them." 

Another  moment  showed  the  rashness  of  her  speech  and  its  audi- 
ble inflexion. 

*'  Ho !"  sounded  the  voice  of  Captain  Sorrel.  "  I  hear  somebody 
talking." 

"  And  so  do  I,"  joined  one  of  the  men. 

"  Good !  They  are  in  hiding  near.    Beat  about — beat  about!" 

With  drawn  sabers,  following  the  example  of  their  leader,  the 
rangers  began  flaying  the  bushes  to  right  and  left,  thrusting,  jab- 
bing, and  momentarily  drawing  nearer  to  the  bushy  hiding-place. 

It  was  only  a  question  of  a  short  time  ere  the  discovery  must  be 
made. 

But  Sorrel  and  his  vassals  stopped  beating  the  bushes  and  listened 
in  astonishment  to  a  challenge  that  just  then  greeted  them,  thus: 

"  S-a-y,  ain't  you  boyees  a  barkiu'  up  the  wrong  tree  ?  Who  in 
in  blasted  tarnation  do  yeou  take  us  fur,  eh  ?  Better  be  a  pokin' 
round  som'ers  war  yeou  b'long  at,  hadn't  yeou?" 

It  was  the  gruff  voice  of  old  Fusee,  and  his  language  and  tone 
were  of  the  disguised  kind  we  have  seen  him  assuming  when  in  the 
presence  of  his  commander,  and  by  which  he  was  characterized  in 
his  mingling  with  the  boys  of  his  battery. 

But  Sorrel  was  not  to  be  deceived  by  any  suggestion  this  speech 
may  have  been  intended  to  throw  out. 

"  Ho  !  here  they  are.    Come  out  you  Yanks.    Surrender !" 

*'  Reckon  you'll  have  to  fetch  us  out,  my  bold  boyee." 

"  By  my  soul !  I  will." 

And  in  another  breath  Sorrel  cried  : 

"  Here  they  are  in  this  bush.    Charge  into  them,  lads  !" 

But  there  was  no  Immediate  obedience  to  the  order. 

For  while  that  order  was  on  the  ranger  captain's  lips,  all  dis- 
tictly  heard  the  ominous  cocking  click  of  more  than  one  revolver, 
and  again  the  disguised  voice  of  Old  Fusee  said : 

"  Charge  away!" 

'•  Cap,  they're  armed,  "  reminded  one  of  the  hesitating  men. 

"Armed?  Yes,  they  are  armed.    Did  you  expect  to  capture  a 
man  who  was  unarmed  ?    Charge,  I  say !" 
3 


(J6  OLD   FUSEE. 

"  Why  don't  you  charge  too?"  asked  oue,  suggestively. 

JiTow  Sorrel  was  no  coward  ;  to  the  contrary,  he  was  a  bold  as 
well  as  a  bad  man. 

But  it  has  already  been  shown  that  at  that  particular  time  he 
had  a  very  great  inducement  to  avoid  any  danger  that  might  re- 
sult in  death. 

The  audible  clicking  of  the  revolvers  meant  death. 

If  by  chance  he  should  receive  a  mortal  wound,  that  would  be 
the  end  of  him  and  his  visions  of  the  one  hundred  thousand  dollars 
that  he  might  grasp  if  Belle  Bartholemew,  by  fair  means  or  foul, 
could  be  made  his  wife. 

Even  while  he  urged  his  men  to  drive  the  hidden  parties  from 
their  covert,  he  was  cautious  enough  to  shelter  himself  behind  a 
tree  on  the  opposite  side  from  that  whence  came  the  sound  of 
cocking  revolvers. 

"  I  have  dropped  my  saber  in  the  tangle — curse  it !"  he  lied,  read- 
ily;  "and  my  pistols  I  emptied  in  a  set-to  with  some  Yanks  a  little 
way  back.  You  may  have  heard  the  shots.  At  them,  you  !  Ho ! 
fifty  dollars  apiece  if  you  get  hold  of  the  girls !" 

"  Better  let  us  alone !"  warned  the  voice  of  Old  Fusee. 

The  ranger  captain's  offer  was  accepted  with  even  more  spry- 
ness  than  he  had  hoped  for. 

With  a  yell  they  charged  into  the  tall  bushes. 

And  another  yell  followed,  as  four  revolvers  banged  and  four 
bullets,  every  one,  found  a  mark  at  that  short  range. 

Badly,  though  not  fatally  wounded,  the  rangers  who  risked  their 
lives  to  win  the  reward  offered  by  Sorrel,  retreated  precipitately. 

*'  Charge  !     At  them  again  I"  snarled  their  captain. 

"Cap,  I'm  wounded!" 

"So'm  I!"  howled  the  second  ranger. 

As  the  men  thus  answered  their  captain,  Old  Fusee  hailed  them 
from  his  hiding  place  : 

"Why  ain't  yeou  a  takin' us  out  o'  hyer— say?  Or,  hev  you 
concluded  to  let  peac'ble  cit'zens  alone— hey  ?" 

"I'll  have  you  out  of  there  yet,  you  cursed  Yanks!"  shouted 
Sorrel,  in  a  rage. 

"  Oh,  will  you,  now  ?" 

The  tantalizing  tone  almost  drove  the  ranger  captain  into  an  un- 
governable frenzy.  But  he  controlled  his  desire  to  rush  in  upon 
the  defiant  little  party,  as  he  most  assuredly  would  have  done, 
headlong,  under  any  other  circumstances  than  those  we  have 
named,  and  snarled  back  at  them  with  an  oath : 

"By  my  soul!  I'll  catch  and  string  you  all  up  on  the  highest 
tree  in  the  woods — ha!" 

The  last  as,  having  located  the  speaker,  Old  Fusee  fired  his  re- 
volver in  the  direction  of  the  captain,  the  ball  cutting  with  a  spite- 
ful zip  through  the  edge  of  the  bark  of  the  tree. 


OLD   FrSEE.  67 

Au  iuch  or  two  lower,  and  Sorrel  would  have  received  the  ball  in 
his  braiu. 

The  subordinates,  having  learned  what  kind  of  mettle  they  were 
dealing  with,  had  also  sought  shelter,  and,  wiser  than  their  leader, 
they  held  utter  silence,  notwithstanding  the  pain  of  their  wounds, 
lest  a  bullet  might  be  sent  in  their  direction. 

While  matters  were  thus  at  a  stand.  Sorrel  suddenly  saw  a  file  of 
men  approaching  through  the  gloom  like  a  line  of  phantoms,  mak- 
ing scarcely  any  noise  to  tell  of  their  proximity.  A  file  of  men 
with  guns,  whereon  gleamed  dully  in  the  shadows  the  brightness 
of  polished  bayonets. 

Stealthily  they  came  stalking  on,  their  progress  being  at  but  a 
few  feet  from  the  tree  where  Sorrel  stood. 

Near  enough  for  him  to  discover,  presently,  that  they  were  Con- 
federates whom  he  at  once  conceived  to  be  a  picket  patrol. 
"  Ho,  there?"  he  called,  stepping  out. 
"Halt!    Who  comes?"  demanded  a  sharp  voice. 
"  Captain  Si  Sorrel,  of  Sorrel's  rangers." 

"Advance  and  give  the  countersign " 

"But,  curse  it !"  interrupted  Sorrel ;  "I  haven't  been  in  since  the 
fight,  and  I  haven't  got  any  password.    There  are  three  of  us; 
and  from  what  I  hear,  that  is  about  all  that  is  left  of  my  company 
after  this  bloody  and  abominable  Autietam." 
"Come  forward,  Captain  Sorrel." 

The  ranger  advanced  and  was  presently  being  closely  scrutinized 
by  the  officer  in  charge  of  the  patrol. 

A  few  questions  and  answers  seemed  to  satisfy  the  Confederate; 
and  then  he  asked  : 

"I  heard  a  lively  succession  of  shots  here.  We  were  coming  to 
investigate  it.    Can  you  tell  me  anything  about  it  ?" 

"Yes,  we  can,"  half  blubbered  one  of  the  rangers,  as  the  two 
rogues  joined  the  squad.  "Here's  two  of  us  wounded,  and  I  think 
I  am  bleeding  to  death  with  a  bullet  in  my  hip.'' 

"And  I  with  a  bullet  that  seems  to  have  struck  my  neck  and 
gone  clear  through  me  down  to  my  heels !"  snapped  the  second,  in 
a  tone  of  considerable  pain. 


CHAPTER   XX. 

WASTED     AMMUNITION. 

"Silence!"  snarled  their  captain. 

He  said  to  the  officer : 

"  We  are  after  four  cursed  Yanks.  Two  are  females.  One  of 
the  females  is  a  spy." 

"  Have  you  lost  them  ?" 

"Lost  them!"  his  rage  showing  itself  afresh  at  the  thought  of 
how  he  had  been  held  at  bay  by  the  ready  revolvers  of  the  pur- 
sued.   "Jjost  them!    No!    They  are  close  at  hand  this  minute. 


68  OLD  rrsEE. 

They  are  hiding  in  that  bush  there,"  pointing  off,  "and,  blast  it! 
we  have  nearly  all  been  killed  by  their  fire.  The  women  are  fight- 
ers too— all  fighters  1" 

"  Well,  we  will  soon  have  them  out  of  that.  But  it  would  make 
too  much  of  an  alarm  to  have  my  men  discharge  all  their  guns  at 
once.    Rophart?'  he  called. 

"Yes,  lieutenant." 

*'  Step  this  way.  You  are  a  fair  shot.  Level  on  those  bushes  and 
wait  my  word." 

"What  are  you  going  to  do?"  quickly  asked  the  ranger. 

"Give  them  a  chance  to  surrender,  and  if  they  won't,  why,  I'll 
blow  them  sky  high,  that's  all " 

"But— but— hold  on!"  interposed  Sorrel.  "You'll  kill  the 
woman.    I  say  there's  women  in  there." 

"  And  you  say  one  was  a  spy." 

"Yes,  but "  as  he  saw   the  possibility  of  Belle  Bartholemew 

being  shot  and  his  dreams  of  obtaining  possession  of  the  hundred 
thousand  dollars  gradually  fading  in  this  prospect.  "  But  one  of 
the  girls  I  would  not  have  hurt  for  a  mint  of  money." 

"Oh,  you  wouldn't?  What  is  a  Yankee  girl  to  you— if  she  is  a 
Yankee  girl  and  a  spy,  as  you  say  ? 

Sorrel  would  have  endeavored  to  give  some  lying  explanation, 
but  the  officer  of  the  squad  was  a  stern  and  quick  disciplinarian. 
Brtaking  in  heedlessly  on  the  speech  Sorrel  would  have  made,  he 
ordered,  to  the  soldier  who  had  come  to  his  side : 

"  Ready— take  aim,  Rophart." 

And  louder,  addressing  whoever  might  be  in  the  bushes : 

"  Hello,  there !  Will  you  come  out  ?— or  shall  I  give  the  word  to 
blow  you  and  that  bush  into  a  million  fragments?" 

Sorrel  stepped  back,  and  both  his  horny  hands  ran  pulling  and 
twisting  through  his  hair  as  he  muttered,  under  his  breath  : 

"A  ton  of  bald  curses  on  the  head  of  this  fellow  with  his  squad  ! 
He  will  be  as  good  as  his  word.  He  will  blow  them  up— blow  up 
the  charming  Belle  Bartholemew,  and  away  in  the  pieces  go  my 
hundred  thousand  dollars !    By  my  soul !  it  is  a  raw  shame !" 

There  was  no  response  to  the  hail. 

"Surrender,  I  say,"  again  the  Confederate  called.  "I  give  you 
just  ten  seconds ;  then  look  out !" 

"Ten  seconds!"  groaned  Sojrel,  inwardly.  "In  ten  seconds  my 
prospects  of  wealth  will  be  blown  to  fragments!  My  curse,  and  a 
curse  forever,  on  this  hot-head!" 

The  limited  time  passed  by  slow  counts  in  the  brain  of  the  Con- 
federate. 

"  Suddenly  he  uttered  the  one  word: 

"Fire!" 

Bang!  exploded  the  musket. 

Then  silence. 

"Will  you  surrender?" 


OLD   FUSEE.  69 

No  reply. 

The  officer  was  now  aroused.  If  there  was  anybody  in  the  bush, 
they  were  of  a  mettle  that  would  not  scare. 

"  I'll  have  them  out  of  there,  if  I  rouse  the  whole  army  !"  he  ex- 
claimed. 

The  whole  squad  were  ordered  forward  to  a  position  in  front 
and  not  twenty  feet  from  the  bush. 

"Ready!  aim "  he    commanded    them;  and  paused  to   call 

once  more  to  the  supposed  party  in  hiding : 

"  Here  is  your  last  chance !    Will  you  surrender  ?" 

Silence  still. 

"Fire!"  ho  gave  the  word. 

Every  musket  banged  simultaneously,  and  the  bushes  were  torn 
in  shreds  by  the  bullets  that  hurtled  through  them. 

Not  a  cry  to  tell  of  wounded  humans ;  not  a  sound  following 
the  discharge  to  so  much  as  indicate  that  there  was,  or  ever  had 
been,  any  one  concealed  within  the  undergrowth. 

A  suspicion  suddenly  formed  in  the  mind  of  the  officer. 

Alone,  with  drawn  sword,  he  boldly  advanced  toward  the 
bushes. 

A  few  moments  later  he  was  heard  to  utter  an  oath,  and  with 
the  oath,  the  words: 

"  We  are  deceived !  There  is  nobody  here!  and  I  don't  believe 
there  has  been  anybody  here !  Seize  that  fellow  who  calls  himself 
Captain  Sorrel,  of  Sorrel's  rangers  !" 

He  strode  back  to  his  men,  saying  : 

"  Where  is  he?  I  believe  we  have  been  cunningly  hoodwinked. 
That  man  was  not  what  he  represented  himself  to  be,  and  this 
tale  about  the  four  Yanks  in  hiding  was  a  lie  with  an  object." 

That  it  was  a  "lie  with  an  object,"  he  was  immediately  con- 
vinced ;  for  Sorrel  and  his  two  wounded  companions  had  vanished 
noiselessly  in  the  darkness 

Vanished  at  the  first  words  of  the  officer,  intimating  that  nobody 
was  to  be  found  in  the  bush  ;  for  the  ranger's  quick  perception  re- 
alized that  thif^fact  would  throw  him  under  just  such  suspicion. 
With  a  sly  sign  to  his  subordinates,  he  glided  away  unobserved  by 
the  soldiers,  whose  gaze  was  on  the  bushes  where  their  lieutenant 
had  entered. 

"Ho  I"  Sorrel  muttered  ;  "  I  cannot  afford  to  lose  time  by  being 
run  in  by  this  hot-head  with  his  squad.  How  could  Belle  Bar- 
tholemew  and  the  others  have  gotten  away?  But  no  matter — 
they  have  gotten  away,  and  that  is  enough.  I  shall  leave  this 
lieutenant  to  unriddle  that,  while  I  hasten  to  the  house  of  James 
Bartholemew,  where  I  know  I  shall  catch  my  game.  Forward, 
men,  and  tread  like  cats.  Never  mind  those  wounds  of  yours ;  I'll 
plaster  them  detp  with  scrip  to-morrow." 

The  ready  action  of  Sorrel  saved  him  from  considerable  incon- 


70  OLD   FUSEE. 

renience.  It  would  have  taken  some  time  for  him  to  be  fully  re- 
cognized as  the  captain  of  the  rangers  he  professed  to  be. 

The  lieutenant  was  of  a  strange  regiment,  and  held  Sorrel  under 
the  grave  suspicion  of  being  what  he  represented  the  mythical 
party  in  the  bush  to  be — a  Yankee  spy  striving  to  escape  capture 
by  a  shrewd  subterfuge. 

The  disappearance  of  the  men  and  girls  is  easily  explained. 

Apprised  of  this  reinforcement,  as  it  were,  to  the  intentions  of 
the  rufiQan  captain,  Si  Sorrel,  Old  Fusee  said  : 

"  We  must  get  out  of  here." 

"  In  a  hurry,  too,"  agreed  Carlton. 

"  Be  in  motion,  then.    Take  the  girls  with  you." 

"  With  me  ?    And  what  are  you  going  to  do  ?" 

"  I  shall  remain." 

*'  What  can  be  your  object  ?" 

"  To  cover  your  flight  if  it  becomes  necessary.  At  the  last 
pinch  I  could  divert  them  from  you  for  awhile  by  even  giving 
myself  up " 

"  I  will  not  hear  of  such  a  thing,"  emphatically  protested  Belle 
Fusor. 

There  was  evidently  some  powerful  and  mysterious  tie  between 
the  old  gunner  and  the  girl. 

"  Have  no  fear,  bright  eyes,"  he  said,  "  I  have  not  lived  past  my 
three  score  and  ten  to  be  killed  by  rebels.  Do  as  I  say.  Go  with 
the  major,  both  of  you,  and  lose  no  time.  If  lam  fortunate  enough 
to  escape  I  will  join  you  at  the  cave  in  the  hill." 

He  alluded  to  that  same  cave  where  we  have  seen  Carlton  and 
the  girls  successfully  hido  on  a  p)revious  occasion. 

It  was  apparently  a  meeting  place  fixed  upon  at  an  early  date 
between  the  old  gunner  and  the  beautiful  spy  when  she  became 
one  of  those  efficient  scouts  in  the  service  of  McClellan  in  that 
section. 

She  said  no  more. 

Minutes,  precious  minutes,  were  flying.  Obeying  the  instruct- 
ions of  Fusee,  the  three  withdrew  noiselessly  backward  from  the 
covert,  and  were  soon  sate  beyond  the  reach  of  the  musket  bullet 
that  presently  came  ripping  through  the  bushes. 

But  Fusee  did  not  remain  idly  crouching  there  after  the  others 
had  left  him. 

With  no  more  noise  than  a  climbing  cat,  and  with  an  ease  that 
seemed  remarkable  for  one  of  his  years,  notwithstanding  the 
knotty  muscles  that  were  his,  he  ascended  the  tree  that  reared 
from  the  bushes,  and  was  soon  ensconsed  in  the  leafy  boughs  high 
above  range  of  the  first  and  subsequent  bullets  that  tore  into  the 
concealment  at  the  order  of  the  Confederate  lieutenant. 

"  Fire  away,"  he  chuckled,  lowly.  "  I  guess  you  will  only  waste 
ammunition  now,  ray  bold  Johnnies  !" 

And  he  chuckled  again  when  he  comprehended  that  their  ab- 
sence   was    discovered — co^ld    scarcely    restrain    an    open  laugh 


OLD  FUSEE.  -- 

at  the  turn  affairs  took  in  throwing  suspicion  on  the  ranger 
captain. 

Meantime,  the  three  were  speeding  away,  having  risen  to  their 
feet  and  started  at  a  gait  almost  a  run. 

" Be  cautious  how  you  tread,"  warned  Belle  Fusor,  "as  we  have 
seen,  the  woods  are  full  of  the  Confederates,and  we  are  not  by  any 
means  safe  yet." 

The  two  lovers  yielded  to  every  admonition  from  the  lovely  girl, 
whose  experience  in  wood  lore  they  knew  must  be  superior  to 
theirs,  because  of  her  intrepid  performances  as  a  spy. 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

AGAIN  HEMMED     IN. 

Had  it  not  been  for  Belle  Fusor's  familiarity  with  the  lay  of  the 
country  in  that  particular  locality,  the  trio  must  unavoidably  have 
fallen  on  more  than  one  occasion  into  the  hands  of  their  en- 
emies. 

The  hills  and  little  valleys  seemed  to  fairly  swarm  with  the  Con- 
federates on  this  night  of  the  day  on  which  the  great  battle  was 
fought. 
"If  we  had  horses  now,"  said  Carlton,  suggestively. 
*'  And  if  we  had,"  responded  the  spy,  "  we  would  be  captured 
without  doubt.  It  is  a  long  road  we  have  started  upon ;  but  our 
merest  chance  for  safety  lays  in  stealthy  movement,  which  would 
be  impossible  with  horses." 

The  two  girls  walked  side  by  side,  and  at  times  with  arms  around 
one  another's  waists. 

Bell  Bartholemew  felt  now  a  strange  influence  attracting  her  to- 
ward the  beautiful  Belle  Fusor ;  and  the  inexplicable  feeling  was 
mutual,  for  the  spy  seemed  to  have  conceived  a  sisterly  love  for  the 
girl  so  astonishingly  her  own  counterpart  in  many  ways. 

Unerringly  the  spy  led  the  way  to  the  cave  in  the  hills,  where 
they  entered  the  screening  growth  that  hung  like  a  curtain  from 
the  towering  bank. 

"lam  thirsty,"  she  said,  when  they  reached  the  rendezvous; 
"  Wait  a  moment  and  I  will  bring  some  water." 

She  was  never  without  a  small  canteen,  and,  unslinging  this,  she 
left  them  alone  in  the  darkness,  presently  returning  with  a  plente- 
ous draught  from  a  cool  spring  gushing  forth  not  far  away. 
A  fortunate  action  was  this,  as  an  after  event  proved. 
"  What  can  be  the  object  of  Old  Fusee's  going  to  the  home  of 
James  Bartholemew  through  such  dangers?"  Carlton  ventured  to 
ask,  as  they  drew  back  into  the  broad  fissure  in  the  hill. 

"  That  I  cannot  exactly  say,"  replied  Belle  Fusor.    "  But  I  know 
there  has  existed  a  lifelong  feud  between  Fane  Fusor  and  James 
Bartholemew." 
"  Fane  Fusor?"  repeated  the  major,  inquiringly. 


72  OLD  FUSEE. 

"Thai  is  the  name  of  the  man  you  and  every  one  else  know  only 
as  Old  Fusee.  A  name  1  have  ever  called  him  since  I  was  old 
enough  to  lisp  the  words  at  his  teaching." 

"  He  is  your  father  ?' ' 

"  No,"  with  a  sigh.  "  I  have  never  known  a  father,  or  mother, 
either.  But  dear  Old  Fusee  has  been  a  father  to  me,  while  he  has 
impresssd  me  with  the  fact  that  there  is  no  relationship  between 
us,  and  that  I  have  been  greatly  wronged  by  some  one  whom  he 
hoped  to  meet  and  call  to  an  account  some  day.  That  some  one,  I 
now  know,  is  James  Bartholemew." 

"  It  is  a  strange  coincidence,"  here  spoke  Belle  Bartholemew, 
"  that  James  Bartholemew  is  not  my  father ;  nor  have  1,  like  your- 
self, ever  known  father  or  mother.  Uncle  Jim  has  been  kind  to 
me,  though,  in  the  past.  Always  kind  until  two  nights  ago.  On 
that  night,  too,  I  made  rather  a  singular  discovery." 

"  What  like,  darling?"  Carlton  asked,  as  she  hesitated. 

**  In  a  very  mysterious  manner,  a  note  was  introduced  into  the 
house,  intended  only  for  the  eyes  of  Uncle  Jim.  He  dropped  it, 
and  I  found  it;  before  I  fully  realized  that  I  had  no  right  to  peruse 
its  contents,  I  read  there  a  threat  of  some  kind  to  call  him  to  ac- 
count for  some  hinted  villainy  in  the  past." 

"It  was  I  who  brought  the  note  to  his  possession,"  said  the  spy. 
**Ime5ayoung  negress,  Topsy,  outside  at  the  time  when  I  was 
hunted  there  by  the  mounted  men." 

"  Yes,  I  can  understand  now  that  it  must  have  been  through 
you  it  came  there,  for  since  I  have  met  you,  I  can  see  how  the  girl, 
Topsy,  reasonably  insisted  that  I  had  given  her  the  epistle  with 
instructions  to  place  it  where  Uncle  Jim  would  find  it." 

"  It  was  written  by  Fane  Fusor." 

"  So  the  signature  told  ;  but  have  you  no  idea  whatever  what 
this  feud  can  be  between  Fane  Fusor  and  Uncle  Jim  ?" 

"  None.  Dear  Old  Fusee  has  not  made  me  his  confidente  in  that 
particular." 

"We  will  know  pretty  soon,"  Carlton  inserted,  "if  we  succeed  in 
reaching  the  gentleman's  house." 

" '  If,'  "  repeated  Belle  Fusor.  "  We  are  in  the  midst  of  foes  just 
now ;  and  I  can  only  say  that  I  think  it  must  be  something  extra- 
ordinary, that  dear  Old  Fusee  should  place  himself  and  us  in  so 
much  jeopordy  to  have  an  interview  with  James  Bartholemew. 
He  said,  though,  that  this  battery  might  be  ordered  away  from 
the  locality  to-morrow,  and  he  probably  would  not  have  another 
opportunity  for  years  to  accomplish  his  object." 

"  Ordered  away,"  echoed  the  major,  in  surprise.  "  Why,  we  will 
surely  have  a  continuance  of  the  battle  with  the  Confederate 
army  to-morrow." 

"Fusee  is  of  a  different  opinion.  He  asserts  that  the  fighting  is 
over." 

"Nonsense  I" 


OLD   FUSEE.  '^ 


After  events,  however,  were  to  prove  that  the  old  gunner  knew 
what  he  was  prophesying. 

"Hush!"  breathed  the  spy,  suddenly. 

A  sound  of  tramping  feet  was  beard  outside,  as  of  several  per- 
sons passing. 

Men  in  Union  blue  or  Confederate  gray— they  could  not  tell 
which ;  but  whoever  it  was— and  there  were  several— they  were 
gone  in  a  few  seconds. 

The  trio  were  just  indulging  in  a  breath  of  relief,  when  there 
came  another  sound,  and  this  time  it  was  to  cause  them  a  slight 
start  of  apprehension. 

More  tramping  feet. 

Voice3,  rough,  swearing  copiously,  anathematizing  like  this: 

'' Curse  this  wound  in  my  hip!  I  can  go  no  further,  cap.  I 
think  I  have  bled  about  a  quart." 

"Not  half  so  bad  as  this  wound  in  my  neck  ;  a  double  curse  on 
it.  Aquart,  say  you,  comrade?  Soul  and  body  !  I  have  bled  no 
less  than  a  tubf  ull,  I  make  my  oath !  Might  as  well  lay  down  and 
die  here  as  anywhere  else." 

"  Ho  !  you  overgrown  babies !  Ten  to  one  you  are  only  scratch- 
ed and  have  no  wounds  at  all.  Bah  !  but  we  will  stop  here  and 
examine  those  wounds  of  yours  that  you  are  making  such  a  blub- 
bering about." 

"You'd  blubber,  too,  cap,  with  a  mortal  wound  in  your  hip." 

"  And  with  half  of  your  neck  torn  away  by  a  bullet,  "supple- 
mented the  other  and  first  speaker. 

The  men  who  were  thus  complaining  of  terrible  wounds,  and  the 
one  who  ridiculed  the  idea  of  their  being  seriously  hurt,  were  the 
rangers  who  had  suffered  in  that  yelling  charge  into  the  bushes 
shortly  before,  and  the  ranger  captain.  Sorrel. 

It  was  certainly  a  strange  fatality  that  guided  him  so  close  on 
the  trail  of  the  parties  he  was  after. 

"  Look  about,  feel  about,  and  gather  some  sticks ;  I  have  matches 
here;  we  will  make  a  fire  and  take  a  look  at  your  wounds,"  the 
captain  said. 

And  in  a  few  minutes  the  three  outside  the  secret  cave  had  a 
small  fire  burning  on  the  grassy  terrace  that  sloped  down  from 
the  bank  where  our  characters  were  standing,  scarcely  breathing, 
behind  the  sheltering  vines. 

By  the  light  of  the  fire  Sorrel  proceeded  to  examine  the  wounds 
of  his  men. 

First  the  man  who  was  bleeding  to  death  from  a  bullet  hole  in 
the  hip ;  and  Sorrel  uttered  a  disgusted  grunt  as  the  flame  of  the 
fire  revealed  nothing  more  than  a  gouge  in  the  flesh  above  the 
bone— nothing  at  all  serious,  though  possibly  very  painful  and 
ugly  in  the  clots  of  blood  that  had  accumulated  on  the  surface  of 
the  torn  flesh. 
Next  the  man  with  half  his  neck  ripped  away,  as  he  had  said  ; 


7i  Ol^B  FUSEE. 

and  then  Sorrel  uttered  an  oath  of  contempt  for  his  follower,  as 
he  saw  that,  though  a  huge  piece  of  flesh  had  been  cut  off  by  the 
stinging  bullet,  the  main  artery  of  the  neck  was  intact,  and  a 
small  loss  of  blood  was  all  that  would  result  if  the  wound  was 
properly  bandaged. 

"Ho!  you  squalling  cowards.  Bah!  a  man  could  march  a  hun- 
dred miles  with  such  wounds  as  those,  and  if  he  was  a  man  at  all, 
he  would  never  mention  them.  Find  some  water;  bathe  your 
hurts  and  bandage  them.  You  will  be  good  fur  another  charge 
to-morrow  when  we  again  pitch  into  the  Yankee  devils;  and  there 
will  be  a  big  fight  to-morrow,  I  think," 

Somewhat  crestfallen  when  they  realized  the  insignificance  of 
their  wounds,  the  two  began  to  look  around  for  some  water. 

This  was  presently  found  in  the  dripply  overflow  from  the  same 
spring  from  which  Belle  Fusor  had  procured  a  canteen  full  of  the 
refreshing  liquid  for  herself  and  companions. 

Some  time  was  occupied  in  dressing  the  wounds  of  the  two  dur- 
ing which  Sorrel  stamped  about  unrestedly,  anon  urging  them  to 
make  haste,  with  great  oaths. 

And  when  the  operation  was  through  with,  and  just  as  the  ruf- 
fian triplet  were  about  to  move  away,  they,  the  hunters,  suddenly 
found  the  tables  turned ;  for  the  stillness  around  them  was  broken 
by  a  peremptory  voice,  shouting  : 

"Surrender,  there,  you  Johnnies!" 

From  the  shadows  cast  by  the  fire  they  had  built,  forth  came 
half  a  dozen  boys  in  blue. 


CHAPTER  XXn. 

HOT     WOKK. 

The  ranger  captain  now  found  himself  in  a  predicament  where 
there  was  no  escaping  a  fight. 

But  quickly  he  observed  that  the  Federals  who  advanced  upon 
him  and  his  men  with  the  demand  to  surrender,  were  without  any 
arms  save  their  bayonets,  which  they  flashed  from  their  sheaths 
as  they  came  forward. 

Sorrel's  men  must  have  noted  this  fact  at  the  same  time  theii 
leader  did. 

For,  with  a  simultaneous  motion,  up  rose  six  heavy  cavalry 
revolvers.   And  as  they  rose  they  banged  away  at  the  boys  in  blue. 

"Ho!  Give  it  to  them!"  cried  Sorrel,  his  arms  beginning  those 
vertical  see-saw  motions  we  have  seen  before,  and  his  weapon 
barking  with  a  swift,  deadly  regularity. 

At  the  first  fire  three  of  the  blue  coats  went  down,  two  of  them 
never  to  rise  again. 

But  these  were  no  stragglers. 

Men  of  courage  were  they,  and  the  remainder  still  pressed  on  to 
assail  the  trio  of  rangers  fearlessly. 

And  it  seemed  that  this  steady  advance  must  have  discouraged 


0Li3  FUSEE.  "^^ 

the  raugers,  for,  after  the  first  fire,  their  bullets  sped  wide  of  the 
mark,  and  in  another  moment  it  was  to  be  a  hand  to  hand  en- 
counter. 

At  sight  of  soldiers  of  his  own  colors,  Major  Carlton  could  not 
restrain  himself.  He  appeared  to  forget  the  errand  upon  which 
he  and  his  party  were  bent,  he  only  saw  a  conflict  between  the 
boys  in  blue  and  the  hated  gray. 

Snatching  forth  his  revolver,  he  sprang  from  his  concealment, 
shouting: 

"Down 'em!    Down  with  the  rebs  I" 

At  the  same  time  his  own  revolvers  joined  the  bangs  and  barks 

of  the  cavalry  weapons. 

This  fire  from  the  rear  would  have  resulted  in  their  route,  if  not 
the  death  of  the  rangers,  had  not  something  else  occurred  at  that 
moment  to  turn  the  entire  scene  in  favor  of  the  three  surprised 
Confederates. 

Carlton's  fire  had  been  directed  entirely  upon  Sorrel. 

The  captain  dropped  his  weapons,  threw  up  his  arms  and  spun 
round  severaKtimes,  as  if  mortally  hurt,  and  a  stream  of  blood 
gushed  over  his  bearded  face. 

But  he  recovered  himself,  wheeled  again  and  dashed  headlong 
away  from  the  spot. 

In  the  opposite  direction  started,  at  a  full  run,  the  other  two, 
but  halted  as  still  another  sound  broke  on  this  battle  in  miniature. 

"Charge!  Into 'em!  Down  wilh  the  accursed  Yanks!"  were 
words  that  rung  through  the  trees  at  this  juncture. 

Forward  at  a  run  came  the  squad  we  have  seen  Sorrel  meet 
shortly  before,  led  by  the  fiery  young  lieutenant. 

Covering  the  retreat  of  Sorrel,  they  charged  upon  the  Federals, 
and  ere  the  latter  could  fly  two  of  them  were  prisoners  held  by 
the  roughest  hands  that  every  griped  with  the  strength  of  hatred. 

It  was  then  that  Carlton  realized  how  thoughtless  had  been  his 

act. 

To  escape  capture  he  must  flee. 

It  would  never  do  to  return  to  the  concealment  he  had  left. 

That  would  betray  the  girls. 

Thinking  and  acting  quickly,  be  turned  and  bounded  away  m  a 
direction  opposite  to  that  from  which  the  lieutenant  and  his  squad 
bad  approached.  ,   .     , 

Several  bullets  whistled  over  his  receding  head,  fortunately  none 

striking  him. 

After  going  some  distance,  and  halting  as  he  became  aware  that 
he  was  not  pursued,  he  had  time  for  reflection  upon  the  mess  he 
had  made  of  it  by  leaving  the  safe  covert. 

He  was  now  separated  from  the  girls ;  perhaps,  having  seen  him 
appear  from  the  vine  curtained  bank,  Captain  Sorrel-if  that 
worthy  was  not  killed  by  the  shots  that  were  sent  in  earnest  for 
his  death-would  instigate  a  search  there,  and  both  his  betrothed 


76  OLB  t-rsEE. 

and    the  beautiful  spy  would  fall  captive  to  the  Coufederates. 

"  I  wish  somebody  would  give  me  a  good  kicking!"  he  wished 
for  himself,  as  he  stood  crouching  not  far  from  where  he  could  see 
the  unfortunate  Unionists,  in  the  hands  of  their  captors,  being 
roughly  treated  and  reviled. 

And  as  he  witnessed  the  indignities  that  were  put  upon  the  pris- 
oners, his  blood  boiled  within  him,  and  he  exclaimed : 

"By  Heaven!  I  will  not  desert  those  boys!  At  the  risk  of  my 
own  life  I  must  do  something  for  them.  But  what  about  the 
girls?" 

This  after  thought  presented  a  dilemma. 

Meantime,  having  made  his  prisoners  secure,  the  Confederate 
lieutenant  advanced  to  a  form  that,  half  prostrate,  was  leaning 
against  a  tree. 

Captain  Sorrel. 

He  was  hard  hit,  for,  after  going  a  short  distance,  he  sunk  to 
the  ground,  and  for  several  minutes  he  lay  in  a  semi-conscious 
state. 

The  ranger  captain's  face  was  a  fearful  sight  to  look  upon. 

From  a  wound  in  the  head  the  blood  was  trickling  down  over 
his  bearded  and  fierce  visage;  and  his  appearance,  added  to  the 
horrible  oaths  that  volumed  from  his  lips,  presented  a  spectacle 
that  even  the  lieutenant  felt  impressed  with. 

"You  are  wounded?"  he  said. 

"By  my  soul!  do  I  look  as  if  I  was  making  believe?"  was  the 
savage  response.  "  But  as  I  can't  see  the  top  of  my  head,  suppose 
you  examine  and  see  whether  the  accursed  bullet  has  gone  clear 
through." 

Examination  showed  that  the  captain  had  received  a  terrible 
scalp  wound,  which  laid  open  a  furrow  clear  around  the  skull. 

But  it  was  not  a  wound  that  a  man  would  be  apt  to  die  with,  if 
attended  to  in  time. 

The  lieutenant  was  a  skillful  manipulator  of  bandages,  fortun- 
ately, and  soon  Sorrel  was  considerably  relieved,  though  still 
an  ugly  sight,  with  his  blazing  eyes  and  his  beard  clotted  and 
stained. 

"Your  voice  sounds  familiar  to  me,"  remarked  the  lieutenant, 
while  occupied  In  adjusting  the  bandages. 

"Yes,  we  have  met  before ;  not  long  ago  this  night." 

"To-night?" 

"  Yes.  But  we  had  no  light.  You  thought  I  was  not  what  I  told 
you  I  was.  Ho !  you  would,  no  doubt,  have  ordered  me  shot  when 
you  came  to  that  conclusion.  Are  you  satisfied  now  that  I  am  no 
infernal  spy  ?" 

"You  are ' 

"  Captain  Si  Sorrel,  of  Sorrel's  rangers." 

"  Captain,  I  must  confess,  I  thought  you  had  deceived  us  about 
there  being  parties—Yankees—in  the  bushes." 


OLD   FUSEK.  ti 

•'  Well,  I  did  not.  Aud  it  turns  out  that  I  was  close  on  their  track 
"When  I  sneaked  away  from  you,  though  I  did  not  know  it  until  a 
moment  ago," 

*'  A  moment  ago— how  ?" 

"Did  you  not  see  a  man— a  Yankee  devil— in  major's  uniform 
banging  away  with  his  pistols  as  you  arrived  here?" 

"Ha!  yes.  Where  is  he?"  and  the  lieutenant  looked  quickly 
over  his  shoulder  to  see  whether  that  person  was  included  in  the 
capture. 

"Ho!  where  is  he?"  Sorrel  repeated  the  other's  words.  "Yes, 
where  is  he  ?  Why,  a  mile  from  here  by  this  time,  I  calculate.  But 
hist!  listen.    He  issued  from  there!" 

Sorrel,  still  maintaining  his  position  against  the  tree,  as  if  weak 
from  the  effect  of  his  wound,  pointed  toward  the  mass  of  vines  and 
creepers  that  hung  down  over  the  edge  of  the  bank. 

"  He  issued  from  there,"  he  whispered,  hoarsely. 

"Well?" 

"  Bah !  did  I  not  tell  you  that  there  were  four  in  the  lot  ?  If  the 
Yankee  major  came  from  a  hiding  place  in  those  vines,  can  you  not 
see  the  rest  must  be  there." 

"You  are  right,"  hastily  arising. 

"  But  wait,"  detained  Sorrel,  as  the  lieutenant  made  as  if  to  ad- 
vance at  once  and  boldly  upon  the  suspected  hiding  place. 

"Well,  what  is  it?" 

"  One  of  those  girls  I  mentioned  is  Belle  Bartholemew,  the  ward 
of  old  James  Bartholemew,  who  lives  on  the  Shepherdstown  road. 
James  Bartholemew  is  an  intimate  friend  of  General  Lee's.  Blazes! 
if  harm  befalls  Belle  Bartholemew,  you  will  hear  from  General 
Lee!    Remember  that." 

"  What  is  she  doing  with  another  girl  who  is,  you  say,  a  Yankee 
spy?" 

"Was  there  ever  a  man  who  could  account  for  what  a  woman 
does  ?  The  two  girls  are  together.  That  I  know,  and  it  is  all  I 
know— excepting  that  the  other  is  a  spy.  So  be  careful  what  you 
are  at." 

This  advisement,  delivered  with  considerable  emphasis,  a  ghast- 
ly emphasis,  coming  from  the  lips  of  a  man  aisfigured  by  his  own 
blood,  had  precisely  the  effect  Sorrel  meant  it  should. 

For  while  the  lieutenant  had  at  once  resolved  to  capture  the  girl 
he  was  informed  was  a  spy,  he  also  began  to  tax  his  wits  for  a  way 
to  accomplish  this  without  bringing  bodily  harm  to  the  ward  of  a 
man  who  was  an  intimate  friend  of  the  great  Southern  com- 
mander. 


CHAPTER  XXIIL 

A    DOUBUE     AMBUSH. 

Falcon,  for  such  was  the  Confederate  lieutenant's  name,  was  just 
then  attracted  by  a  disturbance  among  the  prisoners. 


78  OLD  FUSEE* 

A  wrangle  regarding  them,  of  some  kind,  was  in  loud  progress, 
and  the  voices  in  dispute  were  so  mingled  in  confusion  that  it  was 
impossible  to  distinguish  what  was  being  said. 

"  What's  the  row  here?"  he  demanded,  hastening  to  the  little 
crowd  at  one  side. 
One  of  the  Federals  responded,  above  the  din  of  rough  voices  : 
"  Say,  are  you  and  your  Johnnies  a  gang  of  cutthroat  pirates  ?" 
"  What  do  you  mean,  you  Yankee  dog  ?" 

The  answer  came  in  a  chorusing  and  loud  howl  from  Confeder- 
ate soldiers. 

"  We're  argying  'bout  whether  to  string  'em  up  right  here,  cap. 
It's  the  best  way." 
"Oh,  you  are,  eh?"  his  eyes  flashing. 
'*  Yes.    Wot's  the  use  of  being  bothered  with  a  lot  o'  Yanks  on 

our  hands.    Wot  do  you  say,  lieutenant " 

"  I  say  that  the  first  man  who  puts  a  rope  around  the  necks  of 
those  men,  will  get  a  bullet  in  his  brain,  and  I'll  be  the  one  who 
fires  it!  What  do  you  dare  to  mean,  you  hounds  ?  I'm  command- 
er here  1  See  that  the  prisoners  are  secure — and  you  had  better — 
that  will  suffice.  No  bodly  harm  to  them— mind  that!" 
"  Bully  for  you,  graycoat!"  sung  out  the  captives. 
We  have  said  that  the  young  lieutenant  was  a  strict  disciplin- 
arian. It  chafed  him  to  see  his  squad  dare  to  assume  such  a  high 
hand;  and  no  matter  how  much  he  really  would  have  enjoyed 
seeing  the  hated  soldiers  in  blue  dangling  from  the  trees  and 
strangling,  he  resented  the  boldness  of  his  subordinates  with  com- 
mendable asperity. 

Sorral  had  arisen  from  beside  the  tree  and  came  a  short  way  for- 
ward toward  the  group. 

"Ho!"  he  muttered,  under  his  mustache,  "The  lieutenant  is 
right;  but  it  is  a  pity  to  keep  the  infernal  Yanks— they  might 
spoil.  I  would  say  hang  'em  ;  but  there  is  both  fire  and  pepper  in 
the  make  up  of  that  young  fellow.  I  can  tell  by  the  glitter  of  his 
eyes  that  he  means  as  much  as  he  says ;  he  would  certainly  shoot 
the  man  who  tried  on  the  game  of  hanging  the  Yanks." 

Even  with  this  conclusion  in  his  brain,  Sorrel  ventured  to  whis- 
per, hoarsely,  into  the  young  officer's  ear : 
"  Were  it  I,  I  would  let  the  men  hang  the  'cursed  Yanks." 
The  lieutenant  wheeled  on  him  sharply. 

"  Captain  Sorrel,  I  command  here.    You  will  please  not  inter- 
fere.   I  know  my  duty." 
Under  which  reproof  the  ranger  captain  was  obliged  to  rest. 
There  was  some  murmuring  among  the  Confederates ;  but  the 
sound  was  not  loud  enough  to  reach  the  lieutenant's  hearing. 

Some  there  had  witnessed  the  lieutenant's  manner  of  dealing 
with  insubordination  on  similar  duty  of  picket  patrol. 

He  had  deliberately  and  promptly  shot  down  a  man  before  now 
for  the  slightest  sign  of  inattention  to  his  orders. 


OT>D   FUSEE.  79 

There  was  tiger  and  iron  in  his  eyes  and  hands. 
"Now  we  will  attend  to  those  who  are,  you  think,  in  that  tangle 
of  vines  there." 

"  Yes,  in  there.    But  remember  what   I  have  arid  about  one  of 
those  who  are  in  hiding,  lieutenant." 
"  My  memory  is  not  so  very  short." 

Falcon  turned,  and,  with  a  frown,  surveyed  the  overhanging 
screen  of  vines,  unaware  that  behind  it  was  a  fissure  almost  like  a 
cave. 

Aad  again  he  began  taxing  his  wits  for  some  expedient  to  dis- 
lodge the  fugitives  without  injury  to  that  one  who.  Sorrel  had  in- 
formed him,  was  the  ward  of  a  man  who  was  an  intimate  friend  of 
General  Lee's. 

Whatever  measure  he  might  have  resolved  upon,  it  was  surpris- 
ingly deferred. 

As  he  stood  with  folded  arms,  contemplating  the  place  of  con- 
cealment : 

Bang !    Zip !— zip  ! 

And  a  man  in  the  crowd  of  gray  coats  cried  : 

"Ha!  I'm  shot!" 

It  was  the  fatal  bark  of  a  revolver  from  the  shadow  of  the  trees 
on  the  west  of  the  little  natural  terrace. 

Quick  as  a  flash  the  lieutenant's  sword  was  out. 

"Fall  in!  Attention!  charge  those  bushes!"  he  shouted,  and 
setting  the  example,  he  plunged  in  the  direction  whence  the  shot 
came. 

His  men  followed  promptly. 

But  only  half  way  to  the  ambush  had  they  gone  when  there 
came  a  startling  check. 

Bang!    Zip!— zip! 

And  again  some  one  cried  : 

"  God  save  me !— I'm  a  dead  man ! " 

Another  shot;  and  this  time  it  was  from  the  trees  on  the  east. 
Both  shots  had  found  a  mark,  and  two  graycoats  lay  bleeding  and 
dead  on  the  sward. 

This  second  attack,  and  from  an  opposite  quarter,  jjroduced  a 
panic.    The  men  halted  irresolutely. 

"  We're  surrounded!"  ejaculated  one. 

The  idea  was  universally  conceived.  With  hesitating  glances  at 
their  leader,  who  was  himself  somewhat  taken  aback  by  the  dis- 
charges at  front  and  rear,  they  broke  and  made  ofif  in  a  disordered 
body  to  the  north,  to  escape  the  attack  from  the  west  and  east. 

An  attack  it  was,  for  following  the  first  shots  now  began  to  blaze 
forth  others  into  their  midst,  increasing  the  panic  at  every  step 
they  took. 

"Ho!"  blurted  Sorrel,  in  some  alarm.  "  We  are,  as  that  man 
said,  surrounded,  I  think.  I  must  look  outfor  my  carca&s.  I  must 
take  care  of  myself,  or  I  may  not  live  to  find  my  charming  Belle 


80  OUO  PUSKE. 

Bartholemew  and  get  hold  upon  that  hundred  thousand  dollars 
which  is  hers.  But,  by  my  soul !  she  is  in  that  tangle  of  vines  in 
the  face  of  the  hill,  I  am  sure,  and  I  shall  not  run  any  further  than 
is  absolutely  necessary." 

Run  he  did,  as  anxious  apparently  to  get  clear  of  the  mysterious 
fusilade  as  any  of  the  others;  but  he  came  to  a  stop  when  in  the 
depth  of  the  woods  and  not  out  of  sight  of  the  place  he  had  marked 
as  the  concealment  of  the  girl  he  had  brutally  determined  to 
possess,  or  rob.  or  both. 

Within  three  minutes  the  opening  before  the  cave  was  deserted 
Silence  reigned,  though  still  at  a  short  distance,  in  retreat,  could 
be  heard  the  pattering  feet  of  the  disorganized  squad. 

Falcon,  though  brave,  was  no  fool. 

He  joined  the  flight  with  a  double  purpose,  to  save  his  body 
from  the  bullets  that  were  whistling  around  and  to  reorganize  the 
patrol. 

But  whoever  had  thus  surprised  the  little  band  of  grayooats 
they  were  not  in  a  hurry  to  show  themselves,  and  one  of  the 
Union  boys  who  lay  bound  on  the  sward,  called  out  : 

"  Hello  !  come  forward.  The  rebs  have  gone.  Come  and  cut  us 
loose,  if  you  are  friends  to  Uncle  Sam." 

"  There  cannot  be  many  of  them,"  mumbled  Sorrel,  as  he  stood 
grimly  behind  a  tree.  "Not  many,  or  they  would  have  pursued 
the  men  they  have  nigh  scared  to  death.  v"!urse  this  wound  on  my 
scalp !    I  am  getting  a  thumping  headache  from  it." 

For  fully  half  an  hour  the  ranger  captain  maintained  his  double 
watch,  upon  the  screen  of  vines  and  to  see  who  had  so  completely 
routed  the  Confederates. 

And  steadily  as  he  gazed  he  failed  to  observe  that  the  prisoners 
were  slyly  moving  by  scarcely  perceptible  squirming  toward  a 
certain  point  of  the  thicket  beyond,  until  suddenly  he  rubbed  his 
eyes  as  if  there  was  yet  some  of  the  recent  blood  from  his  wound 
in  them,  and  his  bearded  mouth  yawned  in  astonishment. 

For  the  Union  boys  had  vanished. 

He  had  not  seen  a  face  that  peered  cautiously  out  at  the  bound 
prisoners,  the  motioning  hand  that  signaled  them  to  keep  silent 
and  roll  and  squirm  toward  that  particular  point,  and  he  was  too 
far  off  to  catch  the  intense  whisper  which  said: 

"  This  way,  boys.  Move  sly  as  snakes.  Get  in  here  if  you  can, 
and  1  will  be  able  to  cut  you  loose.  I  am  all  alone,  and  I  don't 
know  who  that  is  who  helped  me  in  driving  those  fellows  off  by 
timely  shots  from  the  other  side.     Carefully  now." 

And  obeying  the  simple  instructions  the  Federals  were  soon  in 
the  bushes  before  Sorrel  could  realize  what  they  had  been  up  to, 
and  a  sharp  penknife  presently  cut  the  thongs  from  their  arms 
and  legs. 

"I  am  Major  Carlton,  of  the  —  Pennsylvania  Reserves,"  guard- 
edly said  their  liberator. 


OLD   FLTSEE.  81 

Adding  a  momeut  later : 

"  And  now  that  we  are  in  some  force,  we  will  go  to  the  rein- 
forcement of  some  ladies  that  are  ensconced  in  that  vine  bower 
over  there." 

"  Hurrah  for  you,  major!"  said  one,  though  lowly.  "  If  I  dared 
I  would  just  like  to  shout  a  sweet  cheer  about  now." 

"Hush!  The  Confederates  may  not  have  gone  as  far  as  you 
think." 

Boldly,  however,  they  emerged  and  advanced  toward  the  place 
where  Carlton  had  left  the  girls. 

The  spying  eyes  of  Sorrel  followed  their  movements  luridly. 

But  a  surprise  awaited  Carlton. 

When  he  swept  aside  the  vines  and  gazed  inward  by  the  light  of 
the  still  burning  fire,  he  saw  that  the  nook  was  empty. 

The  two  Belles  were  gone ! 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

THE   DESTINATION  REACHED. 

All  that  transpired  outside  the  cave  in  which  the  girls  were 
crouching,  was  plainly  visible  to  them;  and  much  of  what  was 
said  they  could  hear. 

They  did  not  hear  that  announcement  of  Sorrell's  which  called 
the  lieutenant's  attention  to  the  viney  covert,  but  they  could 
judge  by  the  ranger  captain's  actions  that  he  was  indicating  the 
place  where  they  were. 

"  We  will  presently  have  to  fight  for  our  lives,"  said  Belle  Fusor, 
to  her  companion,  with  compressing  lips. 

"  That  man  with  a  bloody  face  is  telling  the  young  ofiBcer  where 
we  are.  I  think  that  must  be  the  meaning  of  his  pointing  in  this 
direction  ;  but  how  can  he  know  that  we  are  here?" 

"  He  infers  it." 

*'  Infers  it?— how?" 

"  By  seeing  Major  Carlton  appear  coming  out  of  here." 

"  Ah,  yes ;  that  was  an  unfortunate  act  of  Frank's." 

"  Very,"  was  the  spy's  response;  and  mentally,  she  was  vexed  at 
the  major's  folly,  which  now  promised  to  bring  them  additional 
peril.  "  We  are  well  armed,  however,"  she  continued.  "  We  will 
show  them  a  pair  of  girls  who  can  do  some  fighting,  I  imagine,  ere 
they  can  overpower  us." 

"  I  will  fight  to  the  last  drop  of  my  blood,"  declared  Belle  Bar- 
tholemew,  calmly. 

Revolvers  in  hand,  ready  for  a  deadly  resistance,  they  waited 
for  the  discovery  which  they  felt  was  inevitable. 

When  the  shots  from  the  invincible  foe  rung  forth  upon  the 
©onfederates,  B»^lle  Fusor  grasped  her  companion's  arm  and 
whispered,  hurriedly : 

"  Look !  some  one  has  attacked  them " 


82  OLJ)  FUSEE, 

"  Dear,  brave  Frank,"  broke  in  the  other. 

"  This  divertisem  en  twill  give  us  a  chance  to  escape." 

"In  what  way  ?" 

"  See !  the  grays  are  running !    Now  is  our  chance.    Come!" 

With  but  a  dim  idea  of  the  spy's  intention.  Belle  Bartholemew 
followed  the  former,  who  at  that  second  started  forward. 

Out  from  the  covert  they  glided. 

In  the  confusion  that  then  reigned,  they  were  wholly  unob- 
served, and  swiftly  they  moved  away  from  the  vine  growth  to 
a  wash  in  the  bank  up  which  they  were  clambering  ere  Captain 
Sorrel  had  reached  and  paused  behind  the  tree  from  whence  he 
began  his  watching. 

"  We  will  stay  here  awhile,"  breathed  the  spy.  "  It  is  doubtful 
whether  even  Major  Carlton  has  seen  us,  and  we  must  strive  to  re- 
join him  ;  for  Old  Fusee  said  that  he  wanted  the  major  present  at 
the  interview  he  intends  to  have  with  James  Bartholemew.  Dear 
Old  Fusee!  I  wonder  where  he  can  be  all  this  time?  Grant  it, 
Heaven,  that  no  harm  has  befallen  him !" 

"  You  think  we  were  not  observed  ?" 

*•  I  am  sure  of  it.    Hark  !  all  seems  very  still  down  there." 

They  listened,  and  Belle  Fusor  ventured  to  creep  forward  and 
peer  over  the  bank  upon  the  now  deserted  terrace. 

While  thus  engaged,  a  sound  behind  her  startled  Belle  Fusor. 

Quickly  she  gained  her  feet. 

To  see  a  familiar  outline— familiar  even  in  the  gloom— standing 
beside  her  companion. 

It  was  Old  Fusee. 

"  Bright  eyes,"  he  said,  lowly. 

She  was  by  his  side  in  an  instant. 

"  You  are  safe !  You  dear  Old  Fusee,  I  am  so  glad  ! " 

"Safe.    But  Where's  the  major?" 

When  told  of  Carlton's  action,  he  shook  his  head  and  com- 
mented : 

"  A  bad  move.  We  must  find  him,  though.  And  I  think  I  know 
about  where  to  look.  It  was  he,  no  doubt,  who  fired  those  other 
shots  into  the  rebs.  Some  one  treated  them  to  bullets  from  the  op- 
posite side  of  the  opening  just  as  I  opened  fire.  For  I  suspected 
you  were  in  our  cave,  bright  eyes,  and  thought  1  would  try  the 
mettle  of  the  graycoats.  Remain  here  while  I  scout  about  after 
the  major." 

Not  long  were  they  to  wait. 

Fusee  had  not  gone  far  from  the  girls  when  he  saw  Carlton  and 
the  boys  in  blue  emerge  boldly  from  the  trees. 

'*The  rebs  must  have  cleared  out  entirely,"  he  thought,  "else  he 
would  never  be  so  venturesome." 

And  he  hailed : 

"  Major,  this  way.    The  girls  are  here." 

"  That  you,  Fusee  ?"  .    .        , 


0Li3  FUSEE.  83 

"  Yes.    Come  up  the  bank." 

Carlton  turned  to  the  Federals. 

"I  must  part  from  you,  my  lads.  We'll  meet  again  in  battle,  I 
guess.  Take  my  advice  and  get  back  into  your  lines,  and  don't  be 
roaming  so  far  from  camp.  You've  had  a  narrow  escape  to-night. 
I  have  important  things  on  hand  to  attend  to,  or  I  would  like  to 
have  you  remain  with  me.    There,  now,  good-by." 

"  Good-by!"  they  responded;  and  one  added,  gratefully  : 

"  God  bless  you,  major,  for  the  good  turn  you've  done  us." 

"  It's  all  right.    Good-by." 

A  few  minutes  later  he  was  once  more  with  his  reunited  party, 
and  the  four  made  another  start  in  the  direction  of  .Tames  Barthole- 
mew's  house,  though  by  a  round-about  way,  to  avoid  the  bivouac 
fires  of  the  Confederates  which  were  dotting  the  greater  portion  of 
the  country  north  of  the  Shepherdstown  road. 

Cavalry,  too,  was  seen  by  them  moving  along  at  intervals— per- 
haps the  shattered  regiments  of  that  futile  charge  during  the  day 
when  Sorrel's  rangers  were  so  badly  cut  up. 

Fortune  seemed  to  be  more  with  the  quartet  now,  however,  and 
ere  long  they  were  in  sight  of  the  large  stone  dwelling  that  had 
been  the  home  of  Belle  Bartholemew  since  infancy. 

Though  the  Confederate  fires  were  to  the  north  and  south  of  the 
road,  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  house  appeared  to  be  free  from 
encompassment. 

By  still  cautious  maneuvering  they  managed  to  draw  near. 

Fusee  then  bade  them  halt. 

"  I  will  go  on  alone,"  he  said.  "  Look ;  you  see  that  light  shining 
from  an  upper  window  ?" 

"Yes." 

"  This  is  no  new  locality  for  me  to  be  in;  years  and  years  ago, 
when  bright-eyed  Belle  here  was  a  baby,  I  lived  not  far  from  the 
home  of  James  Bartholemew.  Yonder  light,  I  think,  as  it  was  in 
those  bygone  days,  comes  from  the  apartment  used  as  a  library; 
and  in  that  library,  in  the  long  ago,  sat  James  Bartholemew  and 
myself,  talking  of  one  of  the  most  sacred  trusts  that  was  ever  given 
to  two  men.  James  was  an  upright  and,  I  believe,  an  honorable 
man  then " 

"  What  is  there  so  very  serious  between  you  and  Uncle  Jim?" 
Belle  asked,  breaking  in,  for  Old  Fusee  was  beginning  to  utter 
words  more  in  the  shape  of  an  oblivious  musing  than  as  if  he  meant 
to  address  those  with  him. 

"  You  shall  know  till  very  soon.  This  much  I  will  say ;  in  yonder 
house  lives  a  man  who  has  wronged  you  and  dear  bright  eyes  here, 
more  than  language  can  find  words  to  condemn.  No  matter  at  this 
time;  wait.  Mark  that  light.  It  comes  from  the  library.  I  am 
goingthere;  I  am  about  to  confront  James  Bartholemew  with  his 
own  dark  deed.  When  you  shall  see  that  light  dim  and  brighten 
again    thrice,    do    you    all    come,  too.    Come  without   hesitancy 


84  OLB  FUSEE. 

Straight  up  to  the  library— Belle  Bartholemew  will  show  the  way, 
I  may  have  a  sight  for  you  then ;  a  man  cringing  and  begging  foi 
mercy  that  he  does  not  deserve.  Major,  I  leave  these  precious  ones 
—both  very  precious— to  your  keeping." 

"  Have  you  no  fear  for  them,  as  long  as  I  shall  breathe." 

Old  Fusee  seemed  to  take  an  extraordinary  solemn  leave  of  his 
friends,  even  for  so  mysterious  a  mission  as  he  was  bent  upon.  He 
paused  to  imprint  a  kiss  upon  the  brow  of  the  beautiful  girl  spy— a 
kiss  as  reverential  as  a  father's. 

Did  he  apprehend  that  there  was  something  ahead  which  might 
make  this  his  last  parting  with  the  young  girl  he  seemed  to  love  so 
dearly. 

As  his  form  receded  from  them,  Belle  Fusor  said,  uneasily  : 

"  I  am  afraid  something  terrible  is  about  to  happen.  I  have 
never  seen  dear  Old  Fusee  so  affected  before.  Ah,  what  can  be  the 
secret  between  him  and  James  Bartholemew  ?" 

Belle  Bartholemew  was  silent.  She  had  heard  enoueh  to  con- 
vince her  that  the  man  she  had  really  learned  to  love  as  a  benefac- 
tor, and  who  had  been  strangely  indulgent  with  her,  was  guilty  of 
some  crime  that  would  not  bear  the  light  of  exposure. 

While  she  felt  sorry  in  her  heart  for  him,  whatever  it  might  be, 
she  was  a  girl  of  spirit,  and  anything  like  crime,  in  her  mind  was 
enough  to  cancel  much,  if  not  all,  love. 

While  Old  Fusee  was  moving  forward  upon  his  unknown  errand, 
a  pair  of  baleful  eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  trio  who  awaited  the 
promised  signal. 

Captain  Sorrel,  not  far  in  their  rear,  was  skulking  away  toward 
the  line  of  Confederate  fires  that  burned  near  the  road  by  Sharps- 
burg. 

As  he  went,  he  was  muttering  with  a  savage  satisfaction : 

"By  my  life,  I  have  them  now!  1  have  them  alii  Two  bold 
Yanks,  a  daring  girl  spy  and  my  charming  Belle  Bartholemew! 
Good.  Ho !  if  I  had  my  rangers  here  now,  I'd  hustle  my  prize  off 
and  away  to  some  retreat  in  the  mountains,  and  there  tame  her 
until  she  would  be  glad  to  marry  me  and  give  me  the  right  to 
handle  the  hundred  thousand  dollars  I  know  to  be  hers." 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

A  MISER  AXD  HIS  GOLD. 

The  great  stone  mansion  appeared  to  be  deserted  without  and 
within.  There  was  no  sign  of  life;  and  the  few  horses  in  the 
stables  were  whinnying  as  if  their  accustomed  attention  had  been 
neglected. 

Closed  tight  were  all  the  windows  and  doors— all  save  that  one 
high  window  from  which  gleamed  the  light  Fusee  had  called  his 
friends'  gaze  upon. 

During  the  day  old  James  Bartholemew  had  been  on  the  top  of 


OLD  FCSEE.  85 

hig  dwelling,  spy-glass  iu  baud,  earnestly  watching  that  portion 
of  the  battlefield  which  was  not  obstructed  from  the  view  obtain- 
able from  the  eminence  on  which  his  house  was  built. 

All  through  the  day,  watching  the  great  clouds  of  smoke  and 
listening  to  the  boom  and  rattle  of  guns  that  roared  upward 
from  where  brave  men  were  falling  like  wheat  beneath  the  reap- 
er's scythe. 

A  full-blooded  Southerner  was  he  ;  at  every  increased  thunder 
of  the  guns  the  grinning  smile  on  his  attenuated  features  became 
deeper  and  deeper,  and  he  muttered  anathemas  on  the  bluecoated 
horde  that  dared  to  thus  strew  the  soil  with  the  blood  and  flesh  of 
Southern  heroes! 

Even  from  his  far  removed  post  he  could  see  that,  if  there  was 
any  advantage  at  all,  it  was  gradully— gradually  and  terribly — 
balancing  in  favor  of  the  Federal  army;  and  as  the  hours  passed, 
his  excitement  became  a  half  frenzy. 

It  was  only  when  too  dark  to  distinguish  more  than  the  long 
lines  of  volleying  musketry  that  he  finally  closed  the  glass  and  de- 
scended through  the  scuttle. 

There  waaan  angry— a  troubled  look  in  his  ratty  face. 

He  shook  his  sparse-haired  head  gravely. 

"Zounds!  I  am  afraid— yes,  I  am  afraid  that  Lee  is  going  to  be 
whipped.    Perdition  seize  every  Yankee  on  Maryland  soil !" 

Somewhat  to  his  surprise,  he  noted  shortly  that  the  house  was 
without  any  occupant  save  himself — this  when  he  rung  and  rung 
again  thrice  over  to  give  an  order  for  some  refreshment;  for,  from 
early  morning  until  the  shades  of  evening  fell,  he  had  neither 
eaten  nor  drank  anything,  so  intensely  had  he  been  absorbed  with 
watching  that  wonderful  battleground. 

Pomp,  Topsy,  the  cook,  all  had  fled  when  the  morning  broke — 
fled  to  escape  the  terrible  Yankees  who,  the  old  man  had  taught 
them  to  believe,  were  accustomed  to  eat  negroes  without  pepper 
or  salt  I  They  were  long  ago  far  away  in  the  hills  to  the  west  of 
Sharpsburg  before  their  old  master  descended  from  the  roof. 

"When  he  found  that  he  was  surely  alone,  a  strange  thought 
seemed  to  strike  him. 

Going  all  over  the  house,  he  made  sure  that  all  was  secure,  and 
then,  taking  a  lamp,  he  descended  the  stairs  to  the  cellar. 

It  was  then  fully  night. 

Down  he  went ;  and  his  actions  were  singular,  for  he  paused 
anon  and  glanced  backward  as  if  fearful  of  being  followed. 

Midway  in  the  underground  passage  between  the  two  cellars  he 
finally  halted,  and  once  again  looked  searchingly  toward  the  joisted 
stairs,  listening  as  if  in  expectancy  of  some  footfall  following 
after  him. 

Satisfied  that  no  one  could  be  near,  he  went  to  a  corner  of  the 
solid  masonry  around  him  and  took  up  a  small  shovel. 


8^  OLD   FUSEE. 

With  this  in  hand  he  returned  to  the  spot  where  he  had  deposited 
the  lamp. 

Then  James  Bartholemew  began  a  mysterious  operation. 

Striking  the  shovel  into  the  earth  that  was  worn  almost  to  the 
solidity  of  stone  by  the  passage  of  feet  over  it,  he  started  to  dig  in- 
dustriously. 

The  dirt  piled  slow  beside  him  at  first,  but  presently  he  struck 
the  more  yielding  earth  beneath  the  surface,  and  ere  long  a  con- 
siderable heap  accumulated,  and  an  excavation  of  perhaps  three 
feet  square  was  made. 

Then  the  shovel  struck  something  that  gave  forth  a  metallic 
sound,  and 

"  Ah !"  he  aspired,  bending  downward. 

At  the  bottom  of  the  opening  thus  made  was  an  iron  slab 

At  one  edge  of  the  slab  was  a  ring. 

Grasping  this  ring  he  raished  the  slab. 

A  remarkable  sight  was  revealed. 

Beneath  the  slab  was  an  iron  receptacle,  and  in  this  were  a  num- 
ber of  buckskin  bags  with  labels. 

Gold— gold  was  there,  and  in  the  next  minute  he  had  lifted  out 
one  of  the  bags,  untied  the  twine  that  held  its  neck,  and  poured 
out  upon  the  earthen  floor  a  shower  of  golden  eagles— double 
eagles,  too,  that  shimmered  and  shone  in  the  rays  of  the  duJly 
burning  lamp. 

"  Mine !  All  mine !"  he  actually  jabbered.  "  It  required  a  nerve 
to  win  it ;  but  it's  all  mine— all  mine !  Ha,  ha !  Pretty  gold !  Oh, 
you  pretty  pieces!" 

He  raised  whole  handfuUs  of  the  glittering  coin,  permitting  it  to 
slide  and  slip  affectionately  through  his  fingers;  and  as  tbe  daz- 
zling money  fell  and  jingled  he  continued  to  mutter,  while  his 
face  was  bright  wilh  avaricious  grinning : 

" Pretty  gold!  Oh,  pretty  gold !" 

We  have  said  in  a  former  chapter  that  James  Bartholemew  was 
miserly ;  but  it  has  been  reserved  for  this  chapter  to  show  the  love 
of  money  that  possessed  his  whole  soul,  that  the  reader  may  more 
fully  comprehend  what  led  him  to  a  crime  for  which  the  reckon- 
ing was  fast  now  drawing  near. 

"How  many  years — how  many  years,"  he  continued  to  jabber  as 
his  eyes  feasted  on  the  hidden  wealth.  "  Oh,  nobody  knew  where 
you  were,  my  pretty  yellow  things!  They  talked  of  war  and  the 
loss  of  everything  that  rich  people  might  have.  But  I  was  too 
shrewd  for  them— yes,  too  shrewd.  I  drew  you  all  in,  my  pets  ;  I 
gathered  you  from  afar  and  near.  Ton  came  safely  into  the  fold. 
While  others  have  lost  and  are  losing  all  that  they  have  toiled  to 
earn,  you  are  here— you  are  here!  Oh,  I  could  not  part  from  you, 
my  pretty,  pretty  golden  prizes !" 

Over  and  over  again  the  shiny  heap  was  raised  and  allowed  to 

slip  jingling  through  his  fingers,  and  his  thin  lips  drew  back  until 

the  few  teeth  he  had  were  exposed  in  the  grin  that  became  set 

rigidly  on  his  exulting  face. 

Suddenly  he  threw  up  his  head. 

"What's  that?"    fell  in  a  whispery    hiss   from  his  chattering 

He  cast  a  frightened  look  toward  the  joisted  stairs,  with  both 


OLD   FTTSEE.  87 

hands  grasping  the  heap  of  money  before  him,  as  if  some  one  was 
about  to  snatch  it  from  him. 

For,  in  the  midst  of  his  avaricious  glee,  he  heard  a  sound  as  of 
some  one  moving  in  the  upp'.T  passage. 

It  seemed  impossible  that  any  one  could  be  in  the  house;  but 
presently  the  sound  unmistakably  was  the  sound  of  footsteps,  not 
very  stealthy  either. 

Trembling  with  excitement,  he  grasped  the  shovel  and  began 
throwing  the  diH  back  again  on  top  of  the  iron  slab,  which  he  let 
fall  into  its  resting  place. 

This  accomplished,  he  took  up  the  lamp  and  hurried  from  the 
cellar  corridor,  muttering  in  trepidation: 

"  Who  can  it  be?  How  could  anybody  have  entered  the  house, 
when  I  so  carefully  locked  every  door  and  window?  But  there  is 
somebody  up  there,  surely.  Have  they  seen  my  gold  ?"  in  a  trem- 
ble of  apprehension.  "  Have  they  discovered  the  hiding  place  of 
my  pretty  prizes?  No.  Whoever  it  is,  they  are  going  up  the 
stairs,  up"^the  stairs.  Who  can  it  be  ?  And  how  did  they  get  in,  I 
wonder?    Some  soldiers,  one  or  more?" 

While  the  words  were  thus  falling  whisperingly  from  his  thin 
lips,  he  was  making  all  haste  up  the  joisted  stairs,  then  along  the 
broad  hall  to  the  staircase  leading  to  the  upper  stories. 

For  whoever  had  entered  the  house  was  evidently  making  to- 
ward the  floor  above. 

Satisfied  that  the  intruder  could  not  have  been  spying  upon  his 
revelation  of  the  hidden  gold,  he  became  vexed  at  what  he  con- 
sidered a  bold— an  over-bold— entrance  into  the  privacy  of  his 
dwelling. 

By  the  time  he  had  reached  the  second  floor,  he  was  frowning 
and  ready  for  a  hot  speech  of  resentment. 

The  sound  of  footsteps  had  ceased. 

But  the  old  man  had  located  their  course;  he  knew  that  the  in- 
terloper had  gone  to  the  library. 

With  quick,  jerky  strides  he  hurried  to  the  library. 

Within  the  room  burned  the  only  light  in  the  building  besides 
the  lamp  he  still  carried,  and  which  we  have  seen  to  attract  the 
attention  of  our  quartette  outside. 

Waving  his  own  lamp  ahead,  he  crossed  the  threshold. 

Crossed  and  paused  abruptly,  as  he  found  himself  confronted 
by  a  man  with  a  snowy  beard  and  twinkling,  bright  eyes,  who 
turned  upon  him  as  he  c'ame  in  and  regarded  him  with  a  steady 
sternness. 

The  intruder  was  Old  Fusee. 

A  shutter  at  one  ot  the  lower  windows,  wrenched  completely 
from  the  fastening  of  its  bolt,  would  have  shown  how^  he  had  ob- 
tained ingress. 

The  old  gunner  folded  his  arms  and  frowningly  surveyed  James 
Bartholemew,  who,  in  turn,  stared  back  at  the  man  he  did  not 
seem  to  know,  and  whose  presence  there  was  so  great  a  surprise  to 
him. 

"  Well,  sir,  who  are  you?  What  do  you  want?  Zounds!  you 
have  broken  into  my  house  forcibly " 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

THE     GREED     OF    GOLD. 

Fusee  interrupted  him  by  a  gesture. 

And  he  said : 

•'James  Bartholemew,  I  am  here  to  demand  an  account  of  the 
trust  that  was  confided  to  you  and  to  rae  nearly  twenty  years  ago. 
Are  you  ready  to  give  it?" 


8S  OLD   FUSEE. 

At  sound  of  that  deep  voice,  Bartholeraew  seemed  suddenly 
seized  with  an  ague. 

His  hands  trembled,  the  limbs  beneath  hira  shook  unsteadily. 
Had  he  not  advanced  quickly  and  deposited  the  lamp  upon  the 
table,  he  would  have  let  it  fall  from  his  hold  and  shatter  on  the 
floor. 

"Tou!"  he  gasped.    "  You  here.  Fane  Fusor?" 

'*  Ay,  here.    You  know  me  now." 

'*  But  I  thought  you  were  surely  dead  ?" 

"  It  is  not  your  fault,  villain  !  that  I  am  not." 

"Not  my  fault?" 

"  Yes.  The  same  murderous  tools  that  you  hired  to  strangle  the 
twin  children  of  Arnold  Yokes  came  near  accomplishing  the  as- 
sassination you  hired  them  to  perform " 

'*I  hired  assassins!    Fane  Fusor,  what  do  you  mean  ?" 

Either  old  Bartholemew  had  recovered  a  wonderful  possession  of 
himself,  or  the  front  he  assumed  now  was  the  most  overpowering 
astonishment  imaginable. 

"  No  matter,  I  know  that  you  hired  ruffians  to  strike  out  my  life 
at  the  same  time  they  threw  into  the  mountain  stream  the  help- 
less little  infant  child  of  Arnold  Yokes.  That,  even  I  could  over- 
look ;  for  I  have  learned  since  that  the  remaining  child  you  took 
good  care  of.  Your  conscience  must  have  smote  you  hard,  James 
Bartholemew,  after  the  report  of  the  death  of  the  other  babe  and 
the  false  report  that  I,  too,  had  sunk  forever  out  of  life  under  the 
waters.  The  weight  of  the  sacritice  of  two  lives  weighed  heavily, 
that  you  should  have  paused,  and  instead  of  destroying  the  re- 
maining child,  reared  her  in  comfort  and  indulgence " 

"  Fane  Fusor,  what  are  you  talking  about  ?  This  is  all  Greek  to 
me,"  the  old  man  broke  in;  but  his  shrunken  face  was  very  pale, 
and  his  ratty  eyes— now  no  longer  ratty,  but  half  glaring  upon  the 
speaker — were  bulging  wide. 

'*  Sit  down,"  said  Old  Fusee,  imperatively. 

The  other  obeyed,  mechanically. 

Fusee  took  a  chair  opposite;  and  steadily,  almost  fiercely,  he 
held  the  man  before  him  under  his  gaze. 

"  When  Arnold  Yokes  died,  he  left  to  you  and  to  me  his  infant 
and  twin  children.  He  left,  also,  a  considerable  sum  of  money  for 
their  maintenance  and  education— sufficient  to  have  accumulated, 
by  this  time,  quite  a  snug  fortune.  Ah,  you  were  an  honorable 
man  then,  James.  But  the  greed  of  gold  entered  your  heart;  it 
fastened  and  grew  upon  you  until,  night  and  day,  you  thought  of 
nothing  else,  save  how  you  could  grasp  the  heritage  of  the  orphans. 
Night  and  day  you  were  taxing  your  brain  for  a  means  by  which 
you  could  rid  yourself  of  them  and  me.  You  knew  that  as  long  as 
I  lived  you  dare  not  be  guilty  of  a  wrong  toward  them.  In  a 
short  time  an  assassin's  plot  was  the  result  of  your  constant 
brooding. 

*•  You  determined  that  the  children  should  die— have  it  appear 
as  if  they  were  drowned  accidentally  in  the  mountain  stream. 
You  decided  that  I  must  die.  Oh.  a  hellish  plot  you  formed.  One 
infant  was  cast  into  the  stream  ;  but  there  is  a  God  above  who  does 
not  permit  such  deeds. 

"  I  had  been  struck  down  and  hurled  into  the  water  by  your 
ruffian  accomplices,  but  the  blow  did  not  kill.  I  floated,  half 
alive,  down  the  stream,  and  Providence  brought  me  to  the  spot 
where  the  other  dark  deed  had  been  done.  I  saw,  I  rescued  the 
babe. 

"  Half  dead,  filled  with  horror  by  the  attempt  upon  mj^  life,  I 
could  not  think  what  could  have  been  its  object,  until  the  finding 
of  the  babe  suggested  the  instigator  of  the  vile  plot.  Long  I  lurk- 
ed about  the  place,  after  that,  to  save  the  other  child  if  a  similar 


OLB  FUSEE.  ow 

fate  was  in  store  for  her ;  but  you  seemed  not  to  meditate  any  in- 
jury to  it,  and  I  followed  you  watchfully  when  you  removed  it 
from  your  other  home  in  West  Virginia  and  came  here  to  live " 

"Stop !"  interrupted  Bartholemew,  assuming  a  stern  exterior 
that  was  far  different  from  the  quaking  within  his  heart.  "If  I 
have  been  all  the  villain  that  you  say,  why  have  you  not  come 
forward  and  denounced  me  ere  this?  Let  me  tell  you  that  such  a 
tale  is  preposterous.  I  mourned  theloss  of  the  infant,  and  instituted 
a  rigorous  search  for  it.  Everyone — myself  included — came  to  the 
conclusion  that  some  hungry  bear  in  the  mountains  had  made  off 
with  it.  A  bear  was  killed,  too,  a  few  days  after  the  disappearance 
of  the  child." 

"  You  are  lying " 

"  That  is  a  hard  word,  Fane  Fusor." 

"  I  say  you  are  lying,  and  the  boldness  you  are  exhibiting  now 
is  assumed.    But  it  will  not  avail  you " 

"Then  this  will." 

As  he  uttered  the  words,  short  and  sharp,  Bartholemew  sudden- 
ly reached  up  and  back  of  his  coat  collar. 

The  next  instant  he  had  snatched  from  a  sheath  beneath  the  col- 
lar a  long  and  gleaming  bowie  knife. 

Griping  the  knife,  he  half  arose  and  bent  his  body  toward  Fusee, 
poising  his  arm  aloft  to  strike. 

But  the  blow  did  not  fall. 

Nor  did  Fusee  make  the  slightest  motion  to  ward  off  the  intend- 
ed stroke  of  the  knife.  Still  as  a  statue  he  sat ;  but  his  keen  eyes 
burned  as  they  fixed  even  more  intently  upon  Bartholemew,  and 
there  was  that  in  their  depths  that  seemed  to  palsy  the  very 
nerves  of  the  arm  that  raised  the  murderous  weapon  within  a  few 
inches  of  his  breast. 

"  James  Bartholemew,"  he  said,  in  a  voice  fairly  quivering  in  its 
sternness,  "  do  you  think  that  one  who  lived  through  Waterloo, 
and  who  has  faced  the  guns  of  the  Southern  array  since  the  day  at 
Sumter,  is  to  be  frightened  by  a  toy  like  that?  Why,  I  could 
take  it  from  you  and  drive  it  back  into  your  own  heart  as  easily 
as  I  could  pluck  an  apple  from  its  bough.    Pooh  !" 

As  Old  Fusee  said  "  pooh  !"  he  threw  out  one  arm,  striking  the 
other  on  the  wrist  such  a  blow  that,  from  sheer  pain,  the  giasp  on 
the  knife  was  instantly  relaxed,  and  the  bright  blade  fell  to  the 
carpet,  sticking  straight  up  at  Bartholemew's  feet. 

"  I  did  not  come  forward  and  denounce  your  attempt  upon  ray 
life  and  the  life  of  the  babe  because  I  wished  to  ascertain,  first,  ex- 
actly what  your  object  was.  And  as  I  became  convinced  that  if 
you  had  intended  to  kill  the  other  babe  you  had  changed  your 
mind,  I  could  afi'ord  to  wait.  It  took  many  years  to  fathom  your 
scheme  entirely.  War  broke  out,  and,  my  restless  spirit  at  once 
enthralled  by  enthusiasm,  I  enlisted  in  the  army  of  the  North.  At 
the  first  real  sign  of  war  I  learned  your  plot.  "^You  were  resolved 
to  be  rid  of  the  heirs  of  Arnold  Yokes,  that  you  might  possess  their 
wealth.  And  by  a  provision  of  the  will— for  Fokes  was  a  widower, 
a  foreigner,  and  without  any  friends  he  would  have  trusted,  save 
you  and  me — if  the  children  died  before  reaching  maturity,  the 
money  would  go  to  the  trustees.  You  realized  on  all  invesments 
immediately.  You  have  now,  if  it  is  not  spent,  the  accumulated 
wealth  in  hiding. 

"I  have  nothing  of  the  sort.  If  there  was  any  money  the  out- 
break of  the  war  swept  it  away " 

"  You  lie  again,  James  Bartholemew !" 

"Ha— zounds!" 

The  old  wretch  made  as  if  to  draw  another  bowie  knife  from  that 
sheath  under  his  coat  collar. 

"  You  saved  every  dollar  of  it,"  Fusee  continued,  heedless  or  care- 


90  OLD   FUSEE. 

less  of  the  motion  that  said  plainly  Bartholemew  would  readily 
have  stabbed  him  where  he  sat.  "You  have  it  now.  And  I  am 
here  to-night  to  make  you  restore  it  to  those  to  whom  it  rightfully 
belongs. 

"Those " 

"Yes;  the  babe,  I  told  you,  was  saved.  She  has  lived  with  me 
since  I  snatched  her  from  the  stream.  She  is  now  a  woman,  grown 
and  beautiful.  She  has  followed  me  in  more  than  one  campaign, 
and  is  known  to  General  McClellan  as  Belle  Fusor,  one  of  his  most 
efficient  spies." 

"  Ah  !"  aspirated  Bartholemew,  as  he  saw  now  how  it  was  that 
his  Belle — Belle  Bartholemew — had  been  mistaken  for  a  spy  by 
Captain  Striker  and  others. 

He  was  beginning  to  see,  too,  that  this  man.  Fane  Fusor,  was  one 
not  to  be  trifled  with.  Fusee  was  there  to  demand  restitution  for 
the  orphans.  At  that  moment  there  lay  buried  in  his  cellar  the 
money  in  question— money  that  had  been  shrewdly  doubled  and 
trebled  by  sly  investments  before  the  opening  of  the  war ;  and  all 
was  in  gold— no  paper  notes  of  a  Confederacy  which  might  or  might 
not  be  able  to  redeem  its  obligations  was  among  the  miser's 
hoard. 

His  brain  was  in  a  whirl  at  thought  of  giving  up  the  yellow  idols 
so  safely  buried. 

He  leaned  back  in  his  chair  and  gazed  with  starting  orbs  at  this 
champion  of  the  orphans  who  had  arisen  as  from  the  grave  to 
smite  his  heart  witli  terror. 

"I  will  not  give  it  up!"  was  passing,  burningly,  through  his 
heated  brain.  "  I  will  not  be  deprived  of  my  pretty  golden  prizes 
at  this  late  day.  It  would  almost  impoverish  me,  too,  since  all  that 
I  had  which  was  at  all  available  has  gone  to  help  the  South 
in  this  struggle  against  the  Yankee  invaders.  No— I  will  make  a 
fight  for  it." 

His  ratty  eyes— now  again  ratty— snapped  a  dangerous  fire. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

A  COWARDLY  DEED. 

With  the  resolution  formed  to  resist— though  he  had  no  definite 
idea  in  what  mannner — the  expressed  intention  of  Fane  Fusor  to 
make  him  deliver  up  to  the  orphans  the  money  of  which  he  had 
robbed  them,  James  Bartholemew  then  began  acting  a  part  to  gain 
time  during  which  he  might  be  able  to  form  some  plan  either  to 
destroy  the  man  before  him  or  escape  in  some  other  way  the 
actual  ruin  which  this  visit  portended  for  him. 

Assuming  a  contrite  manner,  he  said  : 

"Fane  Fusor,  you  are  wronging  me  in  supposing  that  I  ever 
caused  an  assault  upon  your  life  or  the  life  of  Arnold  Yokes' 
child.    True,  I  have  handled,  and  spent,  more  or  less,  some  of  the 

grincipal  the  children  would  have  inherited  from  their  father  and 
een  possessed  of  ere  this  if  I  had  done  as  I  onght  to.  But  that 
inheritance  is  intact.  They  can  have  it  whenever  they  choose  to 
ask  for  it." 

Again,  in  his  brain,  he  was  saying: 

"  Zounds !  if  worse  comes  to  worse,  I  have  not  lied  in  that  piece 
of  information,  for  I  have  the  gold  safe — and  will  keep  it  safe, 
if  T  can  only  think  of  some  secure  means  of  ridding  myself  of 
this  busybody  who  has  risen  from  the  grave  I  long  ago  paid 
a  round  sum  to  have  him  put  into.  I  must  have  a  little  time  to 
think." 

Then,  aloud : 

"I  am  glad,  if  the  child  fell  into  the  stream,  as  you  say  she  did, 


OliD  FUSEE.  01 

that  you  were  there,  Fane  Fusor,  to  rescue  her — very  glad — yea. 
Where  is  she  now?  I  would  like  to  see  her.  I  would  like  to  con- 
fess what  a  great  rascal  I  have  been,  and  ask  her  forgiveness.  Do 
you  think  she  will  forgive  me,  Fane  Fusor,  if  she  realizes  how 
very  repentant  I  am  ?" 

Notwithstanding  his  hard  effort  to  prevent  it,  there  was  a  sus- 
picious light  in  the  ratty  eyes. 
Fusee  regarded  him  searchingly. 

"  The  rescued  babe,"  he  said,  "  is  now  near  hear.  Both  the  chil- 
dren of  Arnold  Vokesare  near  this  house  at  this  moment." 

"  Call  her,  then— call  both.  I  will  throw  myself  entirely  upon 
their  mercy  and  yours." 

As  if  he  disdained  to  fear  anything  from  this  villainous  old  man, 
Fusee  arose. 

He  grasped  up  the  lamp  from  the  table  and  walked  toward  the 
window.  The  action  placed  his  back  toward  James  Bartholemew; 
and  then  into  the  ratty  eyes  came  such  a  lurid  sparkle  as  to  have 
caused  the  beholder's  veins  to  congeal. 

Fiasee  advanced  straight  to  the  window  and  lowered  the  curtain 
slightly. 

Then,  by  a  sudden  motion,  he  showed  and  hid  the  lamp  thrice, 
giving  the  signal  agreed  upon  between  him  and  those  who  waited, 
watching,  outside. 

When  he  entered  the  house  by  the  window  that  he  wrenched 
open.  Fusee  had  paused,  first,  in  the  lower  .entry,  to  unlock  the 
ponderous  door  opening  at  the  rear. 

He  knew  that  his  party,  guided  by  Belle  Bartholemew,  would 
have  no  difiQculy  in  entering  and  coming  straight  to  the  library. 

With  a  rapid  and  noiseless  movement,  Bartholemew  pulled  open 
a  drawer  in  the  trable  by  which  he  sat. 

From  the  drawer  he  snatched  a  dueling  pistol  of  heavy  caliber, 
cocking  it  without  a  sound. 

In  a  second  he  had  the  deadly  tube  aimed  at  the  back  of  Old 
Fusee,  and  now  his  face  was  fairly  cadaverous  in  its  rageful  and 
ghastly  expression. 

Then  the  hammer  fell,  as  the  lamp  gave  the  last  flash  of  the  sig- 
nal. 
A  loud  report  filled  the  room.  • 

A  spasmodic  cry  burst  from  Old  Fusee,  and  while,  the  lamp  fell 
crashing  to  the  floor,  he  reeled  backward  a  few  steps,  finally  sink- 
ing lifeless  before  the  eyes  of  his  murderer. 

Like  the  nozzle  of  some  huge  ape  was  the  grinning  mouth  of  di- 
abolical James  Bartholemew,  as  he  saw  the  man  he  feared  go 
down  with  the  fatal  bullet  in  his  back. 

"Ha,  ha!"  he  jabbered.  "You  thought  I  would  yield  up  the 
golden  treasure  that  I  had  already  stained  my  soul  with  crime  for. 
You  thought  you  had  me  in  a  corner.  But!  am  not  conquered 
yet,  my  bold  Yankee  champion  of  orphans!  Oh,  that  bullet  has 
found  your  vitals,  has  it!"  and  he  stepped  to  the  side  of  the  pros- 
trate and  motionless  old  gunner,  holding  the  still  smoking  weapon 
in  his  hand. 

"  But  he  said  that  the  others  were  close  at  hand.    What  others, 

now?    Are  there   more    than    the   girls?— the  children  of  Arnold 

Yokes  ?    That  waving  of  the  lamp  was  a  signal  of  some  sort.  They 

will  be  here  presently.    I  shall  be  ready  to  receive  them — oh,  yes." 

He  looked  toward  the  doorway,  listening. 

True,  there  sounded,  a  moment  later,  footsteps  in  the  hall  down 
stairs,  and  the  shutting  of  a  door. 

"  Yes,  they  are  coming.  Well,  let  them  come.  I  am  prepared. 
If  it  is  only  the  girls,  I  can  easily  manage  them.  Zounds!  1  will 
take  the  two  in  my  arms  and  carry  them  to  the  strong  room  on  the 
third  floor  and  make  them  prisoners.    I  will  keep  thenj  thereuntil, 


9:»  OLD   FT^SEE. 

they  starve,  if  necessary,  but  what  I  will  make  myself  secure  in 
the  wealth  I  have  now  outlawed  myself  to  obtain  for  the  second 
time.  They  are  here,"  as  the  approaching  footsteps  sounded  on 
the  stairs. 

Somewhat  to  his  astonishment,  the  party  who  entered  was  an 
oflBcer  in  major's  uniform. 

Frank  Carlton. 

But  close  behind  him  were  the  two  Belles. 

They  had  heard  the  pistol  shot.  Belle  Fusor  instantly  conceived 
that  some  peril  menaced  or  harm  had  befallen  the  old  gunner 
whom  she  loved  with  a  daughter's  affection. 

It  was  she  who  first  saw  the  prone  and  lifeless  figure  on  the  floor 
near  the  window,  and  she  cried  : 

"  Ah,  Heaven  !  he  is  killed !    Fusee  is  dead  !" 

Speeding  across  the  room  as  if  oblivious  of  the  presence  of  James 
Barlholemew,  she  knelt  and  raised  the  bloody  head  to  her  lap, 
calling  upon  the  dear  old  man  to  speak  to  her. 

But  there  was  no  response  from  the  aged  and  thickly  bearded 
lips  of  Fane  Fusor. 

"Wretch!  what  have  you  done?"  demanded  Carlton,  striding 
forward  to  confront  Bartholemew. 

*'  I  have  killed  an  accursed  Yankee!"  he  answered,  in  loud  wrath 
at  seeing  another  who  wore  the  hated  blue  thus  boldly  intrude 
into  his  house.  "  And  had  I  another  pistol,  I  would  shoot  you 
down  where  you  stand." 

**  Uncle  Jim,  can  it  be  possible  that  you  have  committed  a  mur- 
der?" spoke  Belle,  shuddering. 

"Yes,  1  have;  and  but  for  you  and  your  accursed  father,  and 
your  twin  sister,  I  should  never  be  what  I  now  am— a  man  who 
defies  you  and  everybody  who  sides  with  you.  I  will  have  my 
triumph  yet." 

With  which  speech,  delivered  in  a  shout,  he  made  a  long  leap 
toward  the  girl  as  if  he  would  have  grasped  and,  perhaps,  throt- 
tled her. 

Carlton  caught  and  held  him. 

"  I  swear,  by  Heaven,  if  you  have  indeed  killed  that  dear  old 
man,  I  will  run  j-ou  through  with  mj^  sword,"  threatened  the 
major,  while  Bartholemew  kicked  and  struggled  vainly  in  his  em- 
bracing arms. 

Bartholemew  now  seemed  to  be  seized  with  a  degree  of  frenzy 
that  bordered  on  insanity. 

Sounds  inarticulate  issued  from  his  lips;  he  almost  frothed  at  the 
mouth,  and  curses  on  thp  Yankee  major  poured  hot  and  fast  be- 
tween his  grinding  teeth. 

And  while  the  two  thus  combated  for  the  mastery,  there  was  an- 
other sound  below  stairs  which  none  heard  because  of  the  feet 
that  scuffled  over  the  carpet,  striking  and  overturning  chairs  and 
shivering  the  glass  of  the  tall  bookcase  in  atoms  over  them. 

Another  tramp  of  feet,  and,  mingling  in  the  tramp,  the  jangle  of 

Carlton  had  as  much  as  he  could  do  to  meet  the  fierce  assault 
of  the  old  secessionist,  who  fought  with  tooth,  nail  and  kicking 
gaiters. 

A  warning  cry  came  from  Belle  Bartholemew,  who  stood  yet 
near  to  the  theshold  of  the  library. 

With  a  final  and  successful  effort  Carlton  hurled  his  wild-faced 
antagonist  back  to  the  further  side  of  the  room,  then  turned  to  see 
what  meant  the  cry  from  his  betrothed. 

Instantly  he  flashed  forth  his  sword,  and  in  his  other  hand  quick- 
ly followed  his  revolver. 

For  there  in  the  doorway,  half  hideous  in  the  swathes  that  were 
bound  ground  his  wounded  scalp,  stood  Captain  Sorrel, 


OLD   FUSEE.  S» 

Behind  the  ranger  captain  were  four  men  in  gray  cavalry  attire, 
wearing  huge  sabers,  and  whose  eyes,  as  they  glanced  into  the 
apartment  over  the  shoulders  of  their  leader,  were  like  the  eyes  of 
beasts  that  famish  for  some  new  prey. 

"  By  my  soul !  you  infernal  Yank !  I  am  here !  I  am  after  you  !" 
he  blurted,  immediately. 

"  And  I  am  here!"  retorted  Carlton,  stoutly. 

*' Charge  in  on  him,  boys!"  the  ranger  captain  ordered,  whip- 
ping out  his  saber,  as  he  utteied  the  words. 

Into  the  room  sprung  the  eager  men. 

Then  there  was  a  flash  of  steel  in  the  air,  and  the  shock  of  a  des- 
perate conflict  arose. 

The  gallant  major  met  them  bravely,  though  they  were  four  to 
one. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

CONCLUSION. 

Amid  the  ruthless  havoc  of  bloody  Antietam,  Major  Frank  Carl- 
ton had  proved  himself  a  true  and  daring  soldier. 

Now,  when  beset  by  such  desperate  odds,  he  displayed  both  a 
prowess  and  bravery  that  showed  the  rangers  they  had  no  com- 
mon foe  to  deal  with. 

Clash !  clash  !  rung  the  smiting  steel. 

The  major's  sword  performed  wonders  that  told  he  was  an  ex- 
perienced fencer. 

Wherever  fell  the  heavy  sabers,  there  was  the  sword,  to  meet  and 
turn  them  aside ;  and  Sorrel  half  paused  in  admiration  of  the  man 
who,  while  he  wore  the  detested  l)lue,  was  one  to  impress  the  be- 
holder with  his  astonishing  bravery  and  skill. 

"By  my  life!  the  fellow  fights  like  a  lion  with  well  trained 
claws.    Ten  to  one,  he  would  whip  my  rangers  if  I  was  not  here." 

Clash!  clash!  the  sabers  and  the  sword. 

Around  him  in  an  ever  whizzing,  gleaming  circle  twirled  the 
blade  of  Carlton.  Futile  fell  every  lunge  and  thrust  that  was  spite- 
fully aimed  at  his  body. 

Then  again  Sorrel  threw  himself  into  the  midst  of  the  melee, 
pressing  the  major  with  a  skill  that  was  superior  to  that  of  the 
mechanically  drilled  rangers. 

"Dogs!  cowards!"  shouted  brave  Carlton.  "Five  to  one  you 
are!    But  come  on!" 

As  the  last  word  left  his  lips,  he  succeeded  in  bringing  his  sharp- 
edged  sword  around  in  a  terrific  stroke  that  sliced  the  neck  of  one 
of  his  foes,  nearly  severing  the  head  from  the  body. 

It  was  a  spacious  room  in  which  this  unequal  and  savage  conflict 
waged;  the  ceiling  was  high,  permitting  full  play  for  the  major's 
remarkable  swordsmanship. 

Clash!  clash!  the  whirring  steel! 

It  was  a  singular  circumstance  that  none  had  drawn  a  revolver 
to  shoot  Carlton,  as  might  easily  have  been  done,  and  thus  at  once 
terminate  the  struggle. 

The  rangers  had  taken  their  cue  from  Sorrel,  supposing  that  their 
leader's  object  was  to  capture  the  Yankee  alive. 

As  yet,  Carlton  had  not  used  his  revolver. 

Now,  when  he  found  himself  encompassed  by  five  men,  all  eager 
for  his  life,  and  all,  in  his  mind,  base  cowards  to  attack  a  man  with 
such  odds,  he  raised  the  hammer  of  the  weapon  with  his  left  thumb 
^-while  his  right  hand  continued  those  sweeps  and  parries  which 
defied  the  lunges  of  the  sabers— and  suddenly  thrust  it  forward  full 
at  the  breast  of  Sorrel. 

The  ranger  leader  saw  his  danger.    But  he  saw  it  too  late. 

Bang!  exploded  the  tube  of  death. 


<)4  OLD   FUSEE. 

Sorrel,  uttering  a  yell,  let  fall  his  saber,  threw  up  his  arms  and 
reeled  backward. 

The  occurrence  seemed  to  stagger  the  others  for  a  second  ;  and  m 
that  second,  availing  promptly  of  the  divertisement,  again  Carl- 
ton's sword  swept  around,  and  another  neck  was  sliced  by  a  mortal 

wound.  .      ^  ^t.   .  ^v- 

The  major's  act  reminded  theremaming  pair  of  rogues  that  they, 
too,  carried  revolvers. 

It  was  now  a  desperate  game  with  them. 

If  this  wonderful  Yankee  could  successfully  resist  the  onslaught 
of  tive  men,  and  deal  out  wounds  while  he  fought,  what  chance 
would  they,  only  two,  have  before  the  terrible  skill  of  that  gleam- 
ing, and  now  bloody  sword?  1  ,  -.^  ^v^^v^- 
Springiug  backward  as  m  one  accord,  they  plucked  forth  their 
heavy  cavalry  revolvers  before  the  major  could  follow  them  up 
or  again  cock  his  weapon  for  a  shot. 

The  dull  barrels  were  leveled  full  at  him  ;  in  another  moment  he 
would  assuredly  have  been  a  dead  man. 

But  there  were  others  there  who  seemed  to  have  been  forgotten 
in  the  scene  of  combat.  .... 

Others  who  possessed  nerve  and  the  will  to  act  in  just  such  an 
emergency  as  now  transpired.  ,         ,      .  .^        „     x 

Ere  the  cavalry  revolvers  could  crack  and  pierce  the  gallant 
major's  body  with  their  slug-pointed  balls,  there  was  another 
sound— the  bark  of  two  revolvers,  held  and  aimed  respectively  by 
Belle  Fusor  and  Belle  Bartholemew. 

Beneath  this  unlooked-for  fire,  the  last  one  of  the  fierce  rangers 
sunk  to  the  carpet  that  was  already  red  with  the  blood  of  the 
slain. 

Five  faces  of  the  dead  lay  upturned  there,  and  most  hideous  of 
all  was  the  bandaged,  ugly,  scowl-browed  visage  of  the  ranger 
leader.  Captain  Sorrel.  ^xv,t.^^4.u  ^^i 

He  would  know  no  more  dreams  of  the  hundred  thousand  dol- 
lars, and  the  beautiful  girl  he  would  have  persecuted. 

Panting  and  triumphant,  Carlton  rested  on  the  point  of  the 
sword  that  had  served  him  so  well,  and  a  faint  smile  overspread 
his  heated  face,  as  he  said :  .  ^  .      ..     t^  ^v,  • 

"  It  is  a  wicked  scene ;  but  we  could  not  help  it.  It  was  their 
lives  or  mine."  ^  ^  ^  -r>     xt.  i 

He  glanced  over  to  where  the  form  of  James  Bartholemew  was 

lying. 

When  hurled  across  the  room,  the  old  villain  in  falling,  had 
struck  his  temple  against  a  chair,  and  the  blow  rendered  him  un- 
conscious. .  ^  ^  -,        ,  ■  T    ^ 

"  What  shall  we  do  with  him  ?  I  cannot  murder  him  ;  I  do  not 
believe  he  can  handle  a  saber,  or  I  would  arm  him  and  myself 
equally  with  sabers  from  these  dead  vagabonds  and  make  him 
fight  for  his  life.  For,  dear  girls,  I  may  tell  you  now,  that  Old 
Fusee  revealed  to  me,  before  starting  to  come  here,  the  crime 
James  Bartholemew  had  perpetrated  against  you.  Poor  old  man! 
he  must  have  had  some  premonition  of  what  was  to  happen,  and 
took  that  precaution  so  that  if  he  met  with  accident  or  death,  I 
could  carry  out  his  intentions  to  the  letter  and  obtain  justice  for 
you.  You  two  are  twin  sisters;  and  if  Old  Fusee  really  is  no 
more,  I  will  explain  all  to  you.  Let  us  examine  him  more 
closely." 

They  went  to  the  side  of  the  prostrate  gunner. 

Belle  Fusor  knelt  again  at  his  side,  raising  his  head. 

As  she  did  so,  she  exclaimed  : 

t'l^o!— no!  he  is  not  dead!  Look!  he  lives— he  lives!  Oh, 
Heaven  be  praised !  dear  Old  Fusee  is  still  alive." 

Still  alive— but,  ah  I  how  very,  very  faint  was  the  spark  that 


OLD  FUSEE.  '■'•> 

lingered  there,  and  which  the  girl  had  detected  as  her  embrabiug 
hand  came  around  over  his  heart. 

Fane  Fusor's  eyelids  quivered  slightly;  presently  they  opened 
wide,  and  he  gazed  up  at  those  who  bent  over  him  in  a  dazed 
manner. 

"Do  I  still  live  and  breathe?"  he  asked,  huskily.  "  Is  it  you, 
bright  eyes?" 

"Dear  Fusee!  Oh,  you  are  alive,  thank  God !  You  are  not 
mortally  hurt ;  no,  I  cannot  think  it." 

He  half  inte/ruptea  her  in  a  weary,  sleepy  way. 

"  Do  not  hope  for  me,  bright  eyes ;  I  am  dying " 

"Oh,  no,  no,  no'" 

"  Yes,  dying.  It  should  not  be  concealed.  I  cannot  be  with  you 
long.  You  have  been  a  dear,  affectionate  girl;  you  have  loved 
Old  Fusee,  and  I  have  tried  to  be  a  father  to  you,  bright  eyes— yea, 
I  have  tried." 

The  girl  would  have  spoken ;  but  the  words  broke  in  sobs  that 
she  could  not  repress,  and  Belle  Bartholemew  and  the  major  both 
stood  with  dimming  eyes  over  the  pair  whose  lives  had  been  so 
strangely  and  closely  bound  together. 

"Major,"  said  the  dying  gunner,  "you  know  the  history  of 
James  Bartholemew's  crime.  Will  you  see  that  these  two  treas- 
ures, these  pure  and  beautiful  girls,  get  back  that  of  which  they 
have  been  despoiled?" 

"I  swear  it  to  you,  Fusee!" 

"  I  know  your  character  too  well,  Frank  Carlton,  to  think  that 
you  will  ever  forget  that  oath.  I  am  going —  Ha !  where  is  James 
Bartholemew?" 

Old  Fusee  turned  his  head  to  glance  across  the  room. 

The  others,  absorbed  solely  with  him,  saw  not  the  skulking  figure 
that  was  at  that  moment  creeping  upon  them. 

Bartholemew  had  recovered  from  the  blow  sustained  in  falling, 
and  instantly  and  noiselessly  he  had  possessed  himself  of  the  pol- 
ished bowie  knife  that  was  sticking  in  the  floor  by  the  table  where 
it  had  been  knocked  from  his  grasp  by  Old  Fusee  shortly  before. 

Dropping  slightly  under  the  table,  as  it  did  at  the  time,  and  as 
the  recent  combat  between  the  major  and  the  Confederates  had 
occurred  at  another  side  of  the  room,  the  sharp  weapon  had  re- 
mained undisturbed,  unnoticed  there. 

Now  grasping  the  bowie  knife  with  a  frenzied  hold,  and  his  eyes 
snapping  the  tire  of  hate  and  deadly  resolve,  he  was  sneaking  up 
behind  those  who  stood,  unconscious  of  his  movements,  looking 
down  upon  the  dying  gunner. 

But  that  fortunate  impulse  of  inquiry,  and  the  turning  of  his 
head,  showed  Old  Fusee  the  danger  that  menaced  those  he  loved. 

"Ha!  murderer!" burst  from  his  lips. 

With  the  whole  of  his  expiring  strength,  he  thrust  one  hand  into 
the  bosom  of  his  blouse,  drawing  a  small  revolver  which  he  was 
wont  to  carry  there  at  all  times. 

In  a  motion  that  told  of  practical  quickness,  he  leveled  the 
weapon,  cocking  it  as  he  brought  it  forward. 

Before  the  others  could  fully  comprehend  what  was  transpiring, 
the  revolver  had  filled  the  room  with  its  whip-like  report,  and  a 
shriek  of  agony  went  up  from  James  Bartholemew. 

Home  to  the  villain's  heart  had  sunk  the  ball. 

It  was  the  cannoneer's  last  shot. 

With  the  action,  his  head  dropped— he  was  dead ! 

With  the  death  of  Old  Fusee  our  story  is  nearly  told. 

Carlton  removed  the  ghastly  corpses  from  the  house,  and  the 
cold  form  of  the  old  gunner  was  gently  placed  upon  a  bier  until 
arrangement  could  be  made  to  give  him  suitable  burial. 

In  an  after  examination  of  the  premises,  the  newly  disturbed 


%  OLD   FUSEE. 

eartli  in  the  cellar  corridor  was  discovered,  aud  with  a  suspicion 
that  the  miser  might  have  a  treasure  concealed  there,  the  major 
found  and  made  use  of  the  same  shovel  with  which  we  have  seen 
James  Bartholemew  lay  bare  what  was,  in  reality,  the  wealth  of 
which  he  had  despoiled  the  orphans. 

Ere  the  night  grew  into  the  small  hours,  the  two  girls  were  gat- 
ing upon  what  they  realized  must  be  their  own  vast  accumulation 
of  inheritance  from  their  father,  Arnold  Yokes. 

Of  course  they  could  never  know,  now  that  Bartholemew  was 
dead,  exactly  how  much  they  had  been  robbed  of;  but  the  glit- 
tering heap  of  gold  laid  bare  by  the  shovel  in  the  major's  hands 
was  an  immense  amount,  and  enough  to  provide  them  with  every 
comfort  so  long  as  they  should  live. 

By  the  dialogue  that  passed  between  James  Bartholemew  and 
Old  Fusee,  the  reader  knows  how  deep  had  been  the  wrong  perpe- 
trated upon  the  beautiful  orphans. 

Heaven  had  wrought  out  retribution  in  its  own  wise  way, 
though  at  the  cost  of  the  life  of  one  that  was  noble  and  endeared 
beyond  words  to  one  of  the  two  Belles  whose  adventures  we  have 
followed  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Antietam  during  the  memorable 
struggle  between  the  Federals  and  the  grays. 

Carlton  remained  with  the  girls  in  the  great  stone  house  over 
which  hung  the  mourning  of  death; 

They  were  very  quiet  there;  and  by  a  dispensation  of  fortune, 
the  building  was  not  molested  by  the  Confederate  hosts  so  near, 
who,  had  they  dreamed  that  iuside  those  tight,  closed  windows 
was  one  who  wore  the  hated  blue,  would  have  rased  each  partic- 
ular piece  of  masonry,  but  what  they  would  have  sacrificed  him 
without  delay. 

The  morning  of  the  eighteenth  came. 

True  to  the  prophecy  of  the  hoary-headed  gunner  who  lay  sleep- 
ing his  last  sleep  in  one  of  the  rooms  up  stairs,  there  sounded  no 
burst  of  guns,  nothing  to  indicate  that  again  the  waves  of  carnage 
were  sweeping  over  the  Antietam. 

The  day  passed,  and  under  cover  of  that  night  Lee  withdrew 
with  his  army,  disorganized  aud  suffering,  back  to  the  soil  of 
Virginia. 

\»  hen  the  retreat  was  assured,  Carlton  ventured  forth,  and  the 
first  act  of  his  party  was  to  see  that  dear  Old  Fusee  was  tenderly 
laid  away  in  a  grave  whereon  were  strewn  flowers  of  fragrance 
watered  by  tears  of  love. 

Of  the  further  adventures  of  Major  Carlton,  the  record  of  the  — 
Pennsylvania  Reserves  must  speak. 

Soon  after  the  events  we  have  related,  he  was  marching  again 
with  McClellan  toward  Warren  ton,  and  the  beautiful  sisters  were 
on  their  way  North. 

But  when  Frank  Carlton's  term  expired,  he  returned  for  his 
promised  bride,  and  there  was  a  brilliant  wedding  in  that  time, 
now  more  than  twenty  years  ago,  in  which  the  gallant  major  and 
the  beautiful  Southern  girl  were  the  principals. 

Belle,  the  spy,  continued  in  that  capacity  until  the  war  closed, 
and  since  then  has  been  the  loved  -and  honored  wife  of  a  Union 
general. 

[THE  END.] 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY 

ConlHins   Historic  Tales   of  tlie  War  for  tlie  Union.      Original,  fnll  of 
life,  flaring  adventures,  love,  intrigue  and  patriotism— 

The  Unwritten  History  of  the  War. 

mstorically  true,  as  to  dates  and  occurrences;  graphically  1  me  as  regards  i.ossibilitics, 
these  tales  will  interest  as  well  »s  entertain  the  reader.  To  the  veteran,  who  will  fight  his 
battles  over  between  tbc  lines,  as  well  as  the  lising  generation,  ever  eager  to  read  of  deeds  of 
patriotism  and  heroism,  this  Libr.iry  will  be  a  welcome  visitor. 

Tlie  \%'ar  Library  is  issued  weekly,  complete  iu  each  number.  Fresh  and  original, 
it  occupies  a  new  field,  and  is  free  from  ultra  partisanship.     Prife,  ten  rents  a  copy. 


CATALOGUE  OF  THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


l-MAJOR  HOTSPUR.    By  Marline  Manly 
2— BLUE    O:^    GRAY.     Ky   Ward  Edwards, 

-High  Privat',"U.  S.  V. 
3-CAVALKY  SAM.     By  Capt.  Mark  Wilton. 
4^0N  TO  RICHMOND.   By  iWaj.  A.  F.  Grant. 
5-VICKSBURG.     By  Corp.  Morris  Hoyne. 
6— SHILOH.    By  Ward  Edwards,  U.S.  V. 
7— BULLET  AND  BAYONET.    By  Capt.  Mark 

Willoii.  „ 

8-SHARf^SHOOTER    DIOK.    By  Major  A.  F. 

Grant. 
9_PRIS0>J  PEN.    By  Marline  Manly. 
10— BIVOUAC    AND    BATTLE.    By  Corporal 

Morris  Hoyne. 
11 -BEFORE    DONELSON.        By  Edgar    L. 

Vincent.  _     ^^^     ^  ^, , 

12-SOLO  FOR  A  SOL'^IER.     By  Ward  Ed- 
wards, "High  I'rivate."  U  S.  V . 
13— TRUE  BLUc.     By  Maj.  A.  F.  Grant. 
14-CROSSED   SWORDS.     By  Corp.   Morns 

Hoyne. 
15-FIGHriNG  PAT.    By  Bernard  Wayde. 
16— UNDER  TWO    FLAGS.    By  Morns  Ked- 

17— STARS  AND  STRIPES.  By  Major  Hugh 
Warren.  ^  , 

18-BATTLE  ECHOES.  By  Maj  r  Walter 
Brisbane.  _  ^ 

19-CANNOimEER  BOB.  By  Maj.  A.  F.  r.rant. 

20-  BATfLE  BEN.     By  .vlorris  U^-dwing 

21-SMOULDErt-STRAPS.  By  Maj  »r  »\  alter 
Wilmot.  ^  , 

22— SEVEN  PINES,    By  Warren  Walters. 

23-S4BER  AND  SPUR.    By  Mon  My  tie. 

24— FIGHTING  FOR  fAME.    By  Morris  Red- 

23-DAShTnG  O'DONOHOE.     By  Li  utenant 

Carlton.  _  ^ 

28-IRnN  AND  STEEL.  By  Maj.  A  ?«/ant. 
27_TH=  FATAL  CARBINE.   By  Maj.  Walter 

Wilmot. 


2 J— MALVERN    HILL.    By  Corporal  Morris 

Hoyne. 
23— GUNBOAT  DAVE.     Bv  Morris  Uedwing. 
30-RIVAL    CAPTAINS.     By  Colonel  Oram 

Etlor. 
31— HARD  TACK.  By  Maj.  Walter  Brisbane. 
3i— YANKEE  STEVE       By  Morris  Kedwi  .g. 
33— FARRAGUrS  SPY.  By  Maj.  A.  V.  Grant. 
34— MISSION  RIDGE,     by  Maj.  Walter  Wil- 
mot. 
35— CH   IN  SHOT.     By  Col.  Oram  Eflor. 
33-FIVE  FORKS.     By  ( 'orp.  Morris  Hoyne. 
37— CAPTAIN  IriONWRIST.    By  Maj   Walter 

Wilmot. 
38-TH  E    LOST    CAUSE.     By  Morris  Red- 
wing. 
33- CAMP  FIRES.     Bv  Warren  Walters. 
40— MORGAN'S  ROUari  RIDERS     By  Major 

A.  K.  Grant. 
41—  EfWEEN    THE    LINES.       By   Moms 

Redwing.  

42-th e    CAVALRY    GUIDE.    By  John  W. 

Southard. 
43_H4RPERS   FERRY.    By  M.jor  Walter 

Wihnot. 
44-SHtRIDAN'S  RIDE.    By  Roland  Dare. 
45— CLEAR  GRIT.    By  Marlinr  Manly. 
46-THE  RIVAL  COURIERS-    By  Harry  St. 

Greorge.  „     ,.  . 

47-BEFORE  PETERSBURG.    By  Major  A. 

P.  Grant. 
48— DOWN  IN  n'X'F.      By  Hugh  Allen,  of 

the  New  Y  ik  press. 
49-LIBBY  PRISON.     By  Col  Oram  Eflor. 
50-WAR'S  ALARM.    By  Morris  R*d\ving. 
51 -UNDER  FIRE.    By  .\nthony  l'.  Morris. 
52-MAROHING  ON.     By  Marline  Manly. 
53-SWORO  AND  SASH.     By  Mon  Myrtle. 
54-BORDER    GUERRILLAS.     By  Corporal 

M.  Hoyne.  .    „   ■,    . 

55-MOSBYS  TRAIL.     By  Morns  Redwing. 


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CATALOGDE  POCKET  EDITION 

OP   THE      . 

WAR  LIBRARY. 


No.  1. 

THE  WAR  DETECTIVE ;  or,  The  Plotters  at 

Washington,     a  Xale  of  Booth's  Conspiracy.     By  Maj. 
A.  F.  Grant. 

No.  2. 

BATTLE  SMOKE ;  or,  The  War  Correspondent 

among    Guerrillas,     a  Thnllmg  Tale  of  Perryville  and 
Stone  RivtT.     By  Hugh  Allen,  of  the  N.  Y.  Press. 


No.  3. 

UNDER  THE  STARS  AND  BARS  ;  or,  A  Wear- 
ing* of  the   Q-ray .     a  Thrilling  story  of  Tennessee.    By 

"*'->%'  Myrtle. 


No.  4. 

OLD  FUSEE ;  or,  The  Cannoneer's  Last  Shot. 

A  Story  of  Antietam.     By  Anthony  P.  Morris. 


No.  5. 

LOYAL  NED ;  or,  fhe  Cruise  of  the  Alabama. 

A  Rattling  Romance  of  tHe  famous  Rebel  Privateer.     By  Maj. 
A.  F.  Grant.  Keady  Oct.  31, 1883. 


No.  6..... 

FREDERICKSBURG ;  or,  The  Great  Tunnel  at 

Libby .     a  story  of  Battle  Field  and  Prison  Pen.     By  Aleck 
Forbes,  War  Corre.spondent. 


Beady  Nov.  7,  188:3. 


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